A New Earth
by wawwhite
Summary: Angels and hunters don't know each other. Apocalypse happens. Righteous humans given to angels on earth for their own protection. This is considered a bad idea by everyone involved. Slash.
1. Introduction

The morning after the Battle of Armageddon and the end of the Apocalypse was a Thursday. It was unseasonably warm and sulfuric for that time of year. A vile yellow haze hung on the horizon, and grey clouds blocked the sun.

It was a good day to be dead.

However, there were survivors. There are always survivors – some last vestiges of humanity clinging to life against all odds and better judgment. The major cities of the world were gone; billions living within gone. But those that lived in the country or small towns had a better chance of being spared. In fact, there were probably people hidden in the deep rainforests and jungles that had no idea that The War had even taken place. Their lives would continue as they had for thousands of years, uninterrupted now by any outsiders.

The forces of heaven declared it a victory.

Loss of human life meant little to them in the scheme of things. Their lives were dust in the wind; and weren't they in a better place now?

Now that the battles were over, it was time to serve judgment. The angels had seven years on earth to gather all human they could find and rule and judge them. Humans captured would be forced into servitude and obedience. They would repair the earth they had helped destroy and recreate civilization from the bottom up. Once all the humans were gathered up, there would be a millennium of peace on earth.

However there were some unique individuals who had fought on the side of good –demon hunters, priests and pastors, prayer warriors, honest leaders of men that had helped win the war. Those that survived deserved reward.

For humans, who value free will above all else, their reward was a punishment. Each human who went above and beyond the call of good would be given in slavery to an angel who chose them. Of course, the angels did not call it slavery, but instead bonded protection. The angel would care for their every need and provide comfort and valuable work. They were given a place of honor.

This is the story of a few of those righteous men and women who were bonded to an angel.


	2. 1: In Which the Principal Characters

Staring straight ahead, I watched a long line of humans being brought in chained before us, the other angels and me. Their chains were made of silvery titanium, light but strong and intricately decorated - more for show than for shame.

I was standing on a dais with a few hundred other angels who had been chosen for service in the war to receive this reward of a human being. It was an honor that I did not want. Yet I could not refuse, and, truly, the thought of disobedience never occurred to me. Such a thing was impossible.

So I waited, half-listening to Michael, the highest archangel and our victorious leader. His speech was thankfully short. After which, he went down the rows of angels, swiftly pinning medals onto our breastplates. Respectfully, I lowered my head when my turn came. It was difficult for me to understand why I was being rewarded for doing my duty; I had only done what was expected.

But there I was, being rewarded by the highest members of heaven. I looked down at the rows of humans standing before us all. The second reward.

Michael and the others did not call them slaves, but the implication was certainly there. They were spoils of war, though had, oddly enough, fought on our side. While the rest of the world burned, only these chosen few had been snatched up and saved. On higher orders than Michael's, they were to serve us, as we protected them. While our brothers and sisters fought only a few dozen miles away and around the world, we few were expected to remain.

I tried to stop myself from shifting uncomfortably. I longed to stretch my wings out and shake off the unpleasantness, but I kept them folded in and invisible. Balthazar, my comrade in arms and close friend, moved slightly next to me. Balthazar disliked humans more than me, and had even dared to whisper his complaints earlier that day. I wondered how many other angels felt the same way. If the humans did not want this as well... but that was not my place to say. Who was I to question the Will of the Lord?

Returning my focus to the ceremony, I watched as Michael motioned to Rachel, a lower angel holding the lead of the first human in the chain. With a formal bow, she led the line of humans closer to the steps leading up to the dais where we stood. The humans jerked and stumbled, trying to keep the line together. Those near the front showed dismay or fear on their faces when they saw how one lesser angel could pull along several hundred humans. Of course, I am no expert in the subtle variations of human emotions, but through years of study, I have learned to recognize the most obvious ones.

One at a time, Michael called an angel forward from the ranks, unhooked a human from the line, and handed them over. It was a tedious business, and I found it almost difficult to concentrate. I was still weary, having only left the battleground a day ago. The two other archangels were called up first. Raphael was greatly honored by being given the Prophet Chuck.

Every angel knew the Prophet Chuck. His visions gave us great insight to the Last Battle, and his words told about every human in the room - part of the reason they were before us now. Every angel had read his words (as slipshod as many of us thought them to be). Raphael's face was impassive as he led the meek and worn-out prophet out of the chamber.

Gabriel, the youngest archangel, walked up to Michael next. For the last century, I had worked directly under Gabriel, and had fought by his side in the last months. Despite his impressive status (and less than impressive height), I found him friendly and clever. Rachel brought a tall, young man to him. Gabriel frowned as he looked up at the giant of a man, but then laughed to himself at a joke only he understood. Gabriel was like that - he had an odd sense of humor among angels that did not have much of one at all. Balthazar was usually the only one who laughed with him, and had long ago stopped trying to explain his jokes to me.

Gabriel led the tall boy out of the room, whistling a call under his breath. Balthazar snorted quietly at the joke I did not understand.

Higher ranking angels were paired with other humans after that. Patient, I waited, while Balthazar fidgeted next to me.

Finally, it was our turn. Balthazar strode forward in a manner that I would call proud if he was not an angel. An older, bearded man was given to him. Balthazar glanced back at me and rolled his eyes. I frowned - another joke I did not comprehend.

After Balthazar left the assembly room, Michael called my name. Rachel brought a young man to my side. I was shocked to recognize him as Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester. Famous in the Prophet Chuck's manuscripts as being the bravest, loyalist, most foolhardy human warrior in these last days. I glanced at Michael, and he must have read the confusion on my face, for surely some other angel was more worthy of this honor. I believe the corner of Michael's mouth twitched slightly, but I cannot be certain. He stated firmly, "You are worthy enough, Castiel." I bowed my head in acquiescence; I knew better than to question my leader further.

Taking the cool titanium chain in my hand, I carefully lead Dean Winchester out of the room, making sure he did not stumble as some of the other humans had. This was a high honor indeed. As we exited the room, I looked back at my charge and saw a dangerously angry light in his eyes, and for an instant, I wished I was not worthy enough.

* * *

I thought it interesting how Dean Winchester attempted to stare me down; how this fragile being glared into the eyes of a deadly, immortal being. He was either brave or foolish, probably both; I would have to discover which was more. Eventually, his green eyes dropped, and he stared down at the floor.

We stood in my- our new home. We would live together in this human building well inside the safe zone. It was a ramshackle building made of wood and brick and concrete and could never compare to the marble and cedar covered in millions of sparkling jewels that was my real home. I held back a sigh. This reward was turning more and more into punishment every minute.

I felt I should say something, but I was unsure of what the proper words were when welcoming someone to their new living arrangement when neither of you want to be there. Instead, I stated, "I'm going to remove your chains now." Instead of touching them (or him), I willed them off, and they clamored to the floor.

Dean Winchester flinched at the sound, but refused to look back up. Stubborn.

I cleared my throat.

I wished there was a manual for these types of situations.

"Would you like to look around?" I asked.

His head snapped up. He didn't say anything only shrugged.

That would have to do. I walked out of the entryway. "This is the living room." I walked inside. "There is a television set over there." Should I point at it? I did. "There are couches to sit on." I walked out of the living room into the kitchen. "This is the kitchen. You can make your own food." I turned to him. "Can you cook, Dean Winchester?"

"I'll survive."

"That is the point." I went with the assumption that all kitchens are similar enough - complex minefields used to prepare small quantities of sustenance that only last a short time and are generally do not provide enough energy to be worth it. I left the kitchen and moved down the hall.

"This is the dining room. You can eat in here."

"This is the hallway. You can see the garden through these windows."

"These are your rooms - will they do, Dean Winchester?" I pointed through the doorway of a bedroom with a connected bathroom.

The man poked his head inside, looking around. "Better than I expected. You don't have to call me 'Dean Winchester,' you know?"

I was confused. "That is your name, is it not?"

He snorted, poking around the room. "That's my full name; we humans usually just go by our first."

Comprehension. I felt vaguely foolish. "I will call you 'Dean' then."

"Whatever." His tone was gruff. After looking around for a moment more, he turned back to me. "All right, I give. What's the joke? Where're the candid cameras?"

I frowned. "I do not understand."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Dean snapped, "I'm serious. This place can't be for me."

"Is there something wrong with your accommodations? You may switch with mine; I do not actually require a place to sleep-"

He interrupted, "Look, I might be acting like the kid who asks what the homework is at the end of class when the teacher forgets, but why all the nice? Where's the dungeon with the chains and the torture?"

I understood. "Who told you were going to be tortured?"

Dean shrugged. "That's what we all thought. I mean, you captured all us humans, chained us up, and told us we were going to be your captives."

I stretched myself to my full height (in my human shape, which was regrettably slightly shorter than Dean), and stated, firmly, "I am an angel of the Lord. Angels of the Lord do not torture people who follow the Lord. This is your _reward_."

Dean muttered, "You keep saying 'reward,' and I'm thinking that doesn't mean the same thing to you that it does to us."

"The War is over and the Seven Years of Tribulation has begun; the world is being cleansed. You righteous men and women have been spared. Yes, you do get less _freedom_ than you are used to; we will not allow you to harm yourselves. You will be safe, protected, and cared for."

Dean did not respond other than shaking his head.

I continued, "You have water, food, shelter; is there anything you require?"

I blinked as Dean's fist swung back and struck me in the jaw. I heard bones crack. Dean swore, holding his hand close to his body.

"You cannot hurt me," I informed him. "I may be in a human shape, but I am still infinitely stronger than you are. Give me your hand." Dean hesitated, but I took his elbow and pulled it away from his body. Gently, I took his broken hand in mine. "Fourth and fifth metacarpals." I willed them to knit themselves back together. The bones obeyed better than he did. "There." I released his hand.

Dean stared it at it, then at me. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

"You cannot hurt me, Dean. You cannot escape this house. You cannot fight me, poison me, or trick me. You will only bring harm to yourself." I hoped we could come to an understanding now; I would have to see how stubborn he really was.

His jaw worked as his thought (about what, I cannot say, since man's thoughts are hidden from us). Finally, he asked, "What am I supposed to do?"

I nodded. "Every creature needs a purpose beyond survival. I do not know what your purpose is here or what the purpose of us being brought together here. But for now, I suggest you go to bed and rest. We can figure everything else out in the morning."

Dean stared at me.

I stared back, unsure if I had been unclear.

"Fine," he mumbled. He turned and walked off to his room.

I sighed when I heard his bedroom door close, but then frowned when I realized he was still on the side of the door and trying to sneak down the other end of the hallway. Tricks would not work on me.

As he opened the door into the last room down the hall, I appeared inside it. "Do you need anything, Dean?" I motioned around me, "This is my room, but you are welcome to anything you want from it."

Admirably keeping this shock out of his voice, he stated, "I'm going to bed now."

"Good night." I believed that was the correct response.

He grunted.

Punishment indeed.

* * *

I waited for several minutes after Dean had fallen asleep to make certain that he was not pretending before allowing myself to relax. I had an urge to dash over to Gabriel's or Balthazar's or really any other angel to see what they were doing with their charges. Was it possible that anyone else was having as much trouble as I was?

Instead, I straightened my shoulders and allowed myself to stretch out my wings. I pulled the Prophet Chuck's (or perhaps it was just Chuck) works off the library. Since they were mostly unfinished manuscripts scattered around his apartment now, some angel was given the task of putting them all together for us to read until the official version was ready. Thus, our copies changed on our shelves all the time, occasionally while being read. It was confusing, but the usefulness far outweighed the hassle.

I skipped ahead to the chapters about the Winchester family. (Entire _chapters_ had been written about them!) I am not ashamed to admit, that I had always found their family fascinating. Ever since the first draft of the Chuck's book appeared in Heaven's libraries eight years ago, I found myself being drawn to read their story over and over again.

I skipped ahead to the familiar chapters and quickly skimmed through them until the boys Dean and Sam were born. Ah, Sam! I just then recognized the tall, younger man who had been given to Gabriel. He was another force to be considered.

As I re-read the passages, I noted down several things that I thought would be helpful. First, Dean had an almost self-destructive loyalty to his family. Seeing his family and friends well and cared for would certainly be beneficial. Second, Dean appeared to enjoy danger, based on the high magnitude of times he found himself in it. Third, Dean really liked food. There was hardly a tale about one of his exploits that did not off-handily mention him eating something, usually meat from a bovine.

Why Chuck felt the need to include such random details was beyond me, but I would use whatever help I could get.

I thought over which aspect of Dean I should consider first. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs might come in handy. I pulled a thick psychology book down off the bookshelf. (The Higher Ups had insisted on us angels having a general knowledge of human physiology and psychology, though I doubted most of the others had actually done the required reading.) There it was - the lowest level and most important - physiological: breathing, food, water, sex, sleep, homeostasis, excretion. Breathing was covered fairly well, I thought. He had a bedroom for sleep and a bathroom for excretion. I hoped these were needs he could attend to by himself. Homeostasis - I'd just have to keep him balanced and healthy. Sex as a need was more of an urge to procreate (go forth and multiply!), and in these Days that was not much of an issue. Finally, food was where I could help Dean by providing his favorites. Good. Now, that I knew what to do with the lowest level, we could move up the chart.

Next level was safety, and this is where family fit in. Once he saw that his brother Sam was cared for, he would feel much better. I'd have to ask him which of the people mentioned in his stories he considered friends, since the concept in relation to humans was a bit hazy to me. After that I could easily deal with the rest of the issues on that level. I was unsure about where his need for excitement and danger fit it - esteem or self-actualization perhaps, but that was higher up on the pyramid and could be dealt with later. For the first time, I felt confident that I could make my charge be a healthy, productive human being.

At least until my grumpy, unproductive human being came down the stairs and insisted he was not mine at all.

* * *

Well, he did not specifically say he was not mine, but his entire manner insisted it was not so.

Dean glowered at me, face creased and eyes groggy.

I nodded cordially. Was it appropriate to ask how his sleep went? (We angels do not require rest other than meditation on the Lord.) I decided to let him speak first and follow his lead.

"Look, buster," Dean growled, "You seem like a nice dude for a dick and all, but I'm getting out of here! So you, whatever-your-name-is, and your angel buddies can just stuff it."

Ah.

"Dean, I thought you would like to visit your brother." There. That took the fight out of him. Whoever said that angels cannot be tricky, did not know of what they spoke.

I continued, "Right now, you are not allowed out of the yard without an escort, but, of course, you will want to visit your brother. _I_ can take you." I let that last bit hang in the air.

Dean nodded once.

Well, I would take what I could get. I turned and opened the front door. Of course, Dean noticed that it was not locked, but if he thought he could escape later this way, he was in for another surprise. I lead the way down the porch and onto the side walk. "My name is Castiel, by the way."

I felt him looking at me, but Dean made no comment. I frowned; I was absolutely terrible at making conversation. Even the other angels found me dull. My mind struggled for something to say.

"Did you have a good sleep?" Sigh.

He snorted, "Sure."

Now, I knew: asking how one slept is not an appropriate human practice. At least with Dean.

We were silent the rest of the walk, both of us preferring it that way. It was a short way to Gabriel's place, we were on the same street in fact. As I turned up the front walk, I turned to explain something about curfew and visiting hours, but the man brushed past me and shot up the steps and into the house. I then noticed yelling coming from indoors.

I sighed.

I walked indoors and blinked at the scene in front of me. Balthazar had apparently brought his charge over already. Dean was facing down both Balthazar and Gabriel, standing protectively in front of his brother Sam and the other man. I did not understand the meaning behind Dean's words, but I certainly understood the bitter tone he spat them out with. Balthazar and Gabriel were snapping back at him. An angel annoyed is a fearsome sight compared to humans. The other two showed signs of fear, but Dean was too angry to be frightened as he stood protectively in front of the other two. Not that it would do any amount of good.

It always happened like this, did it not? Either Gabriel or Balthazar would lose their far-too-short tempers, and I would be forced to intervene. Walking over, I gave both of them a slight touch on their arms and faced the humans. Attempting to calm them as well, I tried to soften my normally gruff voice and stated, "Calm yourselves. Understand that if you were to try to harm us, you will only hurt yourselves."

"Is that a threat?" the older man snapped.

Backing off, Dean responded, "Take it easy, Bobby."

Bobby Singer - the boys' long-time friend and surrogate father after their parents' deaths. He featured in many of their stories as well.

The man mumbled, but did not press the issue further. I ignored him and turned to Gabriel, letting him take control in his new home and as our superior. Anger gone as quickly as it had appeared, Gabriel motioned broadly around the room, saying, "Welcome, boys. Feel free to make yourselves as home." He laughed to himself and elbowed Balthazar, who had not regained his good temper, in the ribs.

The three men stood stiffly. Gabriel said again, "Go on... do human things!"

"Like what?" inquired Sam, the first time I had heard him speak. His voice was calmer and less rough than his brother's.

Gabriel frowned. "Eat - you can cook, right?" (Gabriel was notorious for his sweet tooth gained centuries ago while living among the humans.) "Or sleep, you all need sleep right?" There's a TV, should be working; we don't have to bathe you, do we?"

Barely managing to keep my smile checked, I watched the horrified looks the three men gave Gabriel. Gabriel only laughed and continued. "Well, that's good. What else could a human need?"

The men stared at him blankly, obviously having no idea how to respond.

That is what I had been considering earlier. I spoke up, "They need a purpose, Gabriel. All things need a purpose beyond survival."

Gabriel rubbed a hand through his longer hair. "I'm stumped."

Surprised that the two angels who had spent the most time among humans knew them so little, I felt worried. If they did not know what to do with their humans, how was I supposed to care for mine?

Dean spoke up, his voice still sharp, "You really have no idea what to do with us? They didn't give you a _Guide to Your Human Slave_ book, did they?"

Balthazar snapped, "Do not push us. We do not desire or require humans. Most angels were for destroying you, one and all. If the Lord had not told us the rest of His Plan in the last moments you would all be dust. And no one would remember you." He calmed himself before continuing. "You humans had your chance; now it's our time to rule the earth. If you think-"

Gabriel interrupted, "You're not slaves, not really. 'Course you'll have to live without that whole free will thing you humans are so fond of."

Sam asked, voice hesitant, "So then, you're not going to torture us?" Where had they gotten this wretched idea?

Gabriel teased, "Well..." before I jumped in, shocked.

"Of course not. Of course not. No harm will come to you. We are charged with your protection and care. Although, I do not claim to know the Lord's Purpose, I believe He wishes us to study and learn from one another."

Balthazar, Dean Winchester, and Bobby Singer all snorted at the same time. Gabriel laughed.

I frowned. "Whether or not that is our ultimate goal, your purpose will be to take care of yourselves and this home. Please tell us if there is anything you need or desire."

I turned away from the children of men and to the angels, "I wish to speak with you." We walked (agonizingly slower than simply appearing where you willed yourself to be) into the next room and lowered our voiced so they could not be heard by human ears.

Letting the overwhelmed feeling creep into my voice, I said, "I am at a loss with how to deal with this task."

Gabriel asked, "I suppose you mean beyond making sure they don't fall over and die."

"That is precisely my point. We are told to care for them, but their needs are far more complex than that."

"Just when I was thinking the idea of having a pet might be fun, "griped Balthazar.

"They are not pets." I stated firmly. "They are human beings."

"Lesser than us. Closer to monkeys," argued Balthazar.

I stared at him, "They may be less powerful and more fragile than us, but they higher than us in many ways." Almost visibly, Balthazar's temper rose. I continued quickly, "All creatures are created for a purpose. Angels are stronger and more intelligent and more holy, but humans have their uses to the Lord as well."

Gabriel added, "Cookies." We stared at him. "Chocolate, Tootsie Rolls, cake, pie, Snickers, mint chocolate chip ice cream. Seriously, that's a good enough purpose for me."

Balthazar rolled his eyes.

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. "Of course, they have many other skills of the physical type that are fun as well."

There was no getting through to Gabriel when he started thinking about earthly delights. Yet I hoped that they had understood my point. However, I had further concerns.

And an idea.

"I think it would be preferable to bring all of us together in one home than try to figure out what we supposed to be doing by ourselves."

"What are you asking?" questioned Gabriel. "Wanna be roommates?"

No. "Housemates. We can combine our houses into one giant house." Entirely impractical from a human perspective, but I thought we could get permission to do it. "We will have to work harder to get along, however."

Balthazar and Gabriel looked at one another. An agreement passed between them, and Balthazar said, "Sounds good." Gabriel darted over to ask the higher-ups for permission, while I explained the situation to the humans, taking them outside. Gabriel and Balthazar declared that they would do the whole thing in no time and why don't I take the humans to visit their other little human friends in the meantime? I felt uneasy, but agreed.

So I lead the three humans around the quaint suburbs, paying house calls on their friends who had been deemed righteous enough to be spared as well. I would have to remember all these humans' names. There was Ellen who was staying with Uriel, a tough, gruff woman with a tough, gruff angel. Her daughter Jo was with Anna, and I suggested that Anna might bring Jo around to visit her mother. They could come see us as often as they liked. (For some reason, that invitation slipped my mind at Uriel's.) There were several other households we visited, but I will not describe them now.

At each place, the angel and human seemed at odds. It was an abnormal situation we were placed in, and we were all feeling the strain. I admit that it did perversely lighten my load to know that the others appeared as uncomfortable and confused as I was.

As we headed back to the house, I could see it from a distance. It was a monstrosity. I hurried ahead of the humans and glared at Gabriel and Balthazar who were arguing on the roof. I chastised them, "This is hardly in keeping with the local aesthetic; fix it!"

They did. I took hardly a second for the building to shrink down into a two story house, still a bit large, but more appropriate to the neighborhood. Sam, Dean, and Bobby came up behind me. I was glad they had not tried to run away; I did not feel like chasing them down right then.

"Well, it's bigger," stated Bobby stoically.

"Wait 'til you see the inside," bragged Gabriel.

I could wait. I followed the group in. They had outdone themselves. It was more than a bit much. In fact, I was uncertain how they had managed to fit all these rooms in. I might have to fix some physics issues later.

Gabriel proudly showed us around the place. I was lost, but the humans seemed impressed. He pointed out my room. "It's a cupboard under some stairs."

I nodded. It is not like I needed any space at all.

Gabriel groaned, "You're no fun to tease, Castiel." He clapped Dean on the shoulder, who quickly shrugged him off, "That's something you'll learn about Cassy here - no sense of humor and far too literal, even for an angel."

I only followed the rest of the tour to see what I would have to fix later and ignore the tour guide. They had given themselves excessively large rooms, but had not skimped on the boys either. I was glad to see their generosity. "Here's your real room, Castiel." I looked inside. More than acceptable. I was glad to see it had a large window. I would enjoy standing and looking outside. It was also across the hall from Dean's room, which was next to Sam's, which was across from Gabriel's, next to Balthazar's, across from Bobby's. Snug.

I felt myself growing weary. I had been over three weeks since I last had time to meditate on the Lord. I confess I found Gabriel trying at times. As the humans explored their rooms, I went downstairs and looked into the yard. An absolute mess. Leave it Gabriel and Balthazar to completely forget about the outside. The yard was a disaster and all the trees had been pushed back. They were clumped too close together and looked sad. I willed them farther apart, but left the rest. That could be their first job - create a garden out of this mess.

I was soon startled out of my rest that I had not even realized I had been taking by noisy arguing and cooking coming from the small kitchen. I got up and walked over, sitting on a stool next to Balthazar. Bobby and Sam were trying to prepare some sort of meal with Dean and Gabriel getting in the way. It would have been homey if not for the wide berth and awkward glances they were all giving each other. I watched them all, feeling a vague sense of helplessness, wondering what I was going to do. We needed something to bring us all together.

Time. That was what we needed.


	3. 2: In Which There is a Fight

The first few days had gone by. Not well, but they had passed. We were settling into a routine. Each morning, the humans would wake, take care of their morning activities (which we were not required to be a part of), and come downstairs.

Bobby would start making breakfast. Sam would stand awkwardly in his tall frame. Dean, without fail, would come up to me and ask me what I wanted him to do. He would often throw "master" or "boss" or a more offensive term at the end of that question.

At first I was confused, but soon grew weary of his antics and just told him to eat. He insisted on this annoying, little ritual. Every day.

My angelic patience was wearing thin.

* * *

Our first real dispute came on the fourth day.

I was cleaning the living room area, straightening up, when Balthazar came in. "What are you doing?" he asked.

I shrugged, thinking it was obvious, "I'm cleaning." It was astounding how much of a mess three humans could make in such a short period of time, and then do the same thing all over again (seemingly as soon as I had cleaned up). They brought their food and dishes in here while watching television and left them. Books, magazines, clothes, various tools, and utensils were left all around. I sighed softly.

Balthazar interjected, "I can see that you're cleaning, Castiel. My question is why?"

"Then you should have asked that," I huffed. I disliked purposeful unclearness. "I am cleaning, because it is messy and dirty. Pass me the Windex," I asked. I sprayed the couch liberally, ignoring Balthazar's glares.

"Did you make this mess, Castiel?" Balthazar persisted, somewhat condescendingly, I thought.

"Of course not. Cleanliness is next to godlessness. Well, not precisely, but the expression is quaint."

His arms crossed over his chest, Balthazar continued to watch me until Gabriel slouched in and dropped on the couch. "Do you see this?"

Gabriel looked around. "Yeah?" he drawled. "Where's the remote, Castiel?"

I grabbed it off the top of the television set where I had placed it after finding in the barcalounger's cushions and tossed it to him.

"Gabriel!" snapped Balthazar. "Has Castiel been cleaning up the living room after our darling little mud monkeys all this time?"

"Think so," Gabriel shrugged. "I think he's been cleaning the whole house. Humans are gross."

Balthazar grabbed the Swifter out of my hands. "They make a mess - they clean it up. Get it?" He turned to Gabriel, "Get them in here."

Gabriel grunted, but got up, and, turning of the television, strolled out of the room. Balthazar made me put down all my cleaning implements. He angrily ripped my protective cleaning apron off. I did not understand his violent reactions.

Leading the four humans, Gabriel came back in, and flopped back down on the couch, looking carefree as usual. Feeling Balthazar's anger radiating, I tensed.

Balthazar started off, reminding me of him many battlefield speeches. "Look at this mess! You disgusting humans are revolting. We provided with safety and security and you completely trash it..." He went on for several minutes more, using more choice words unfit for an angelic being. In summary, he expressed displeasure at how they were treating our living conditions and at how I had ended up doing all of the work around here, and that from now on, they were going to take care of this place - even if we had to beat them like slaves to get it done.

I would have protested at that part, but at a look from the suddenly interested Gabriel, I stopped. To my surprise, Balthazar's words seemed to have some effect on our trio of humans. Sam looked ashamed; Bobby had an air of discomfort about him; and even Dean looked slightly cowed. Balthazar's acerbic speeches were legendary among the ranks.

Finally, he concluded and told them to get to work cleaning, a dangerous look on his face, daring them to refuse. They did not dare. The three men began cleaning the room, and I humbly noticed that they did a much better job that I had before. Within ten minutes, the living room was clean, not spotless, but I figured that their godliness was less clean than mine or something.

"Now get the rest of the house finished," commanded Balthazar. "And you will keep the house neat from now on. I don't want to find Castiel covering for your asses again. I'll check on you in a half hour. While you're working, we will come up with more jobs for you to do around the house, since you obviously have too much free time on your hands." Dean mumbled something, but even I could not hear the words, and we ignored it.

As the three trooped out of the room, Gabriel commented, "Well done, Balthazar. Way to put the fear of You-Know into them." He stood up, looking at me. "Castiel, why is the couch all wet?"

* * *

It took us longer than I expected (and more looking up definitions in the dictionary that I thought), but finally we came up with a working chart, color-coded with tasks and responsibilities for our three humans. It was well-rounded and would help improve them both mentally and physically. I thought it looked very nice. (The color coding had been my idea.)

Actually feeling excitement, I sat down at the large dining room table across from the three humans. I had been tasked with explaining the chart to them and was determined to do my best. I began, "This is a weekly schedule of your activities. You can see, it starts here on Sunday. Each of you will get up at 5:00 am, get dressed, and begin Morning Prayer, which will be followed by devotions at 6:00..."

I was interrupted by Dean, who said, "Lemme see," and pulled the chart across the table, closer to them. "This is bullshit," he exclaimed.

I protested, "This is not... that-"

"Why am I pink?" asked Sam, annoyed.

"Pink is a pretty color," I explained, confused.

"Yeah, you're so pretty, Sammy," chimed Dean.

"That's not why-"

"I ain't gettin' up at 5:00," protested Bobby, "and I sure as hell ain't going to bed at 8:00. What'dre think we're twelve?"

This demonstration was spiraling out of control. I looked to Gabriel for help, but he was laughing silently. Balthazar was fuming again. Again, it was up to me to diffuse the situation.

"Silence," I demanded raising my hand. I refused to let surprise show on my face at their compliance. Slightly reckless, I picked up the chart and tore it in half and then in half again. "Am I to understand that you would wish a different method of organization?"

They nodded.

"Very well. Understand that we wish you to do these jobs in order that you may be occupied and have a purpose in this time. It is not healthy for you to continue this apathetic and lazy existence."

"Well, what do ya expect us to do?" asked Bobby gruffly.

"You're not going to let us hunt anymore, are you?" Sam questioned hopefully.

"No, that would be too dangerous during this time," I reminded them.

"The boys like a bit of danger, don't you?" teased Gabriel.

I ignored him. Rules were rules. However, as far as I knew, Dean and Sam had never held any other jobs - hunting was their life.

Balthazar spoke up, "This one ran an auto garage," gesturing at Bobby.

Of course! I had forgotten that. "We can bring you some automobiles to repair," I said.

The three of them looked skeptical, but Dean asked, "Old ones, all right?"

I nodded. I was glad that we had come up with an idea acceptable to all. In the end, I knew that it was pointless - rebuilding cars when the world was burning around us was a fool's job - but if it gave them enjoyment, then I was glad of it.

Thus a new stage in our relationships began. It was easy for us to create a workshop garage in the back. Bobby insisted on us finding real cars (and not speaking them into existence from nothing), so Balthazar and I would search the nearby area for classic cars to transport back to our place. I checked a book out of the library on classic automobiles to make sure we brought the correct things. (The library was no longer in service, but I believe I followed the correct procedure by myself.)

It was usually Dean and Bobby who worked together. Sam helped for an hour or so each day, but he could not compare to their enthusiasm. I would watch them, out of sight, to make sure they were fairing well. Balthazar would drop by, though his sarcastic comments likely made his presence unwelcome.

I was ashamed to realize that I had been avoiding Dean. He was my charge, and yet, I felt out of place around him. I cannot express precisely why, but he made me feel ill at ease. However, I became determined not to let my weakness prevent me from doing my duty; he was my responsibility, and I would not shirk it.

I stood watching Bobby and Dean work. They were leaning over the hood of the car, gesturing and poking around in the greasy, metal deathtrap. Moving forward, I stood beside Bobby and peered inside, making sure I did not get too close. They were talking about something called a car burateor. Bobby turned away; seeing me, he gave me an unreadable look, but he did not seem upset.

Continuing to watch Dean, I was slightly startled when he held out his hand in my general direction and asked for a "wrench." Uncertain, I did not do anything. Dean looked up and said, "Oh-"

Determined, I asked, "Which tool is a wrench?"

Dean stared at me for a moment, then pointed over at the toolbox. "Long-handled, silver-colored, y-shaped head."

I picked the right tool the second time, and quickly passed it over. Dean gave me a strange look, but took it, and got back to work. I felt relief; he had not turned me away. I took the wrench when he had finished with it, and put it carefully back in the tool box.

Wrench. I would remember that.

I handed him a few more tools, until Bobby shuffled me out of the way, carrying a large, filthy object, which they fitted back into the automobile. I stood around for awhile longer, until Dean would ask for something, hand me this or push back on this here.

A couple of times a "please" or "thank you" slipped out, and he would look away annoyed. I knew he did not find it appropriate to show me courtesy intentionally, perhaps feeling that being friendly would be humbling. I did not mind; I would too find it troubling to be kind to a captor, however benign.

The next day, I "helped out" again - though I am certain that having to teach me every little thing slowed them more than it helped. Dean even explained a few things to me. I learned that the dirty grease was actually good as it helped lessen the friction and keep the parts running smoothly. I found that fact very interesting indeed.

Everything, even dirty grease, had its place. Just not in my house.

* * *

"Pass me the tire iron."

"This is a tire iron? I thought it was called a crowbar." I passed over the surprisingly heavy bar of iron.

"Different tool, but close enough. Lotsa people get 'em confused."

I was helping Dean removed the tires from a 1969 Buick Skylark. Of course, he was doing most of the work.

Our days had turned into this - Dean working on cars and me helping. Bobby worked less nowadays, finding other jobs around the house to occupy his time. Despite Gabriel's teasing, he began gardening, saying gruffly it was something he'd always wanted to do, but never had the time, and we'd sure be grateful when there weren't angels poofing in food from Who-Know's where. That idea was foolish, but I enjoyed seeing the little spouts pop up all over the yard. It had been a long time since I had time to watch something grow.

Sam spent more time indoors, trying to catch up on some reading that he had just never gotten around to. I said "trying" since Gabriel seemed determined to make even a few minutes of quiet solitude impossible for him.

Gabriel has always been a trickster - fonder of pulling pranks and telling jokes than any other angel I knew, more than most humans, according to the startled looks that Sam always gave him. I often considered diplomatically confronting Gabriel about this, but I had tried in the past to no avail. Plus our objective was different now, and perhaps, a bit of tomfoolery was a viable strategy.

Sam did seem confused at first, but I suspect that all younger brothers share an affinity for being obnoxious. (Gabriel is, in fact, the youngest of the archangels.) Soon, much to Dean's annoyance, Sam was returning the pranks with ease. Gabriel seemed delighted.

I was glad he found someone else to annoy. Up until then, I was most often the brunt of his jokes, worse for I did not understand them.

We were falling into a routine, easy enough, and I found it still interesting learning about my human and theirs.


	4. 3: In Which Castiel Learns

It took almost a full week for Dean and me to truly relax in one another's presence in the garage. In fact, it seemed to be taking me much longer than him. I appreciated his easy-going personality; while stubborn, he was more accepting of his situation than most others would have been, myself, included.

In between teaching me about cars and their engines, Dean casually talked about himself and his life. In his books, Chuck the Prophet had been mostly correct in his round-about-way: Dean was a simple man. No, not unintelligent, Dean was far from that. It was just that he appreciated everything he was given, no matter how insignificant it seemed to me. And if his life was taken away from him and he was, in return, given a torture-free captivity where he could be with family and work on cars, well that was more than fine with him.

Not that Dean could resist teasing me about it, sliding in a "master" every now and then, and then laughing at my bafflement.

"Hey, boss man, where's the flashlight?"

Embarrassed at being caught up in my contemplations, I readjusted my arm shining the light back to the stop under the car where Dean was working. "Sorry."

Dean only grunted, but I detected a hint of amusement in the noise.

I was lying on my stomach on the floor (_on the floor!_), stretched halfway under the automobile. Dean was on his back, lying on a wheeled board, called a dolly (a ridiculous name, in my opinion), all the way under. It was complicated work, changing the oil. Not that I was doing much, but Dean did insist that flashlight duty was important.

As if I could not recognize condescension.

It that uncomfortable position, I suddenly heard my name sharply called. Dean started, bumping his forehead on the underside of the car. Scooting out, I grabbed Dean's boot and yanked him out from underneath the car. "Are you all right, Dean?" I asked.

Dean blinked at me. "That was fast."

"He _is_ an angel."

Ah yes. The voice. Zachariah.

Zachariah is an angel of the Lord, higher up than Balthazar and myself, and works in an administrative roll - delivering commands and making sure everyone is on task. Also, for someone who is a holy and righteous servant, he is something of what Dean might call "a dick." Not that I ever would.

"Greetings, Zachariah." I rose, grabbing Dean's wrist and yanking him up. "This is Dean Winchester." Dean may have grunted; I am not certain. I nodded to a large, African American man standing slightly behind Zachariah.

Zachariah gave Dean half a glance, before motioning behind him, "This is my charge, Henricksen."

I smiled politely.

Dean said, a smirk in his voice, "We've met, haven't we Henricksen?"

Curious, I looked between the two: Dean appeared pleased, while Henricksen's frown deepened.

Explaining, Dean said, "Me and Sam have run into good old FBI agent Henricksen, here, a few times in the past."

Henricksen gave him a cold look. "You both were breaking laws, and I stand by my actions. Now knowing what I do all about your demon hunting... I still don't agree with your methods." He shook his head.

I wondered if Dean's temper would show itself, but he only grinned and slapped the man on the back, "Good old Henricksen."

Zachariah changed the subject was he led the way out of the garage. "Where are the others? I hear that the six of you have decided to stay in one location."

"That is correct. I believe the others are around back in the garden."

Zachariah did not respond, but began heading toward the back of the house. Bobby was kneeling in the dirt pulling weeds, Sam was sitting in the shade, reading, Gabriel was lounging drinking something with an excessive number of straws, and Balthazar was standing off to the side. He noticed us first.

His sharp eyes caught mine. I quickly raised my eyebrows once, implying that I did not know the reason for this visit. "Zachariah," he greeted, sitting down next to Sam.

Hearing him, Gabriel looked up, then rose striding over, a large grin on his face. "Zach! Good to see you." Zachariah stiffly bowed his head in obligated respect. "What brings you to our humble abode?" He gestured around him; Sam and Bobby had gotten to their feet and stood Dean. Balthazar remained seated, not hiding his glare from Zachariah.

The situation was tense.

I knew from past experiences that Gabriel's usually unfailing charm did not work on Zachariah, and it did not in this instance. As the silence stretched on, Gabriel's smile dropped as he waited for Zachariah to explain himself.

Perversely, Zachariah always appeared to be more cheerful the tenser the situation. He gave us all a half smile, before saying, "I'm just dropping by to see how things are going with all six of you here. You can imagine my surprise when Michael told me that you all had decided to change your appointed living arrangements."

"It's not a problem for you, is it?" asked Gabriel.

"Of course not, just a little paperwork - I just need to know where everyone is. These are dangerous times; can't be too careful."

"I thought we were safe here," stated Sam.

Zachariah's eyes shot to my charge's younger brother. "Sam, isn't it? Don't worry; you're quite safe here. Especially with _three_ angels around."

His tone was not meant to reassure.

"Sam," greeted Henricksen. "You Winchester brothers have a knack for getting into trouble, don't you? Let's make sure that doesn't happen here, all right?"

Dean snorted, and muttered something about "police state."

"Well, all right, boys," said Zachariah, clapping his hands together. "It's been a real treat visiting, but we've got others to visit. We'll see you around." Somehow, the cheery words sounded more like a threat than a farewell. The pair left the yard, giving the house one last disparaging look as they walked around to the front.

"They're gone now, boss; you can relax." Dean patted me twice on the shoulder. I stepped away, realizing that I had been standing defensively between the humans and Zachariah. My job was protecting the humans, but certainly not from other angels. My feelings were just that - feelings, and not to be taken too seriously. I was not one of them, after all.

As the pair of us walked back to the garage, I tried to explain, "Zachariah is a fellow angel, but he has always been more difficult to work with."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, Henricksen's a good guy, but he's a total square - no room for 'alternative methods' or slip ups." He continued speaking, as he rolled himself back under the Buick, he voice muffled, "That Zachariah guy, though; he seems like a dick."

* * *

It was a few hours later, that same day that we heard shouting from across the yard. Dean shimmied himself out from underneath the vehicle and was right on my heels as we hurried out of the garage to see what was wrong. Seeing no signs of imminent danger, I slowed and allowed Dean to rush past me. Balthazar and Bobby were just in the middle of one of their daily arguments.

"The hell's going on?" asked Dean, looking at Bobby and Balthazar who were both gesturing wildly.

"Damn idjit keeps screwing around!" Bobby snapped. "Messin' with my garden, poking fun. Damn near squashed the corn sprouts with his fancy-pancy, sissified loafers!" He finished with an angry huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean turned to Balthazar.

Balthazar only smirked and stared him down. He did not answer to a human.

Gabriel rolled over. After taking a long swig of his drink, which appeared just as full and cold, "Balthazar keeps 'accidentally' stomping on the plants with his sissy loafers. Bobby keeps calling him names, mostly 'idjit.' It's quite entertaining."

A great, heaving sigh seemed to be in order. What was supposed to do? If Gabriel refused to intervene, and no one would listen to my words of wisdom, what could be done? Instead, I watched Dean as he tried to diffuse the situation.

Patting Bobby on the shoulder, Dean advised the older man, "Just ignore the jerk-off. I always do."

He turned to Balthazar, "Man, I thought that Zachariah character was an ass, but you might be a contender for first place."

Balthazar only smiled; he had been called plenty worse.

Turning away, Dean asked, "Need any help, Bobby?"

Though there was still fire in his eyes, Bobby motioned to the garden, "Damn thing can always use more weeding."

I had not realized that the tension from our surprise visit earlier today still hung in the air, but finally it dissipated.

Dean knelt in the garden, minding Bobby's caution about only pulling out the damn weeds and minding the good ones.

I watched for a few moments, then knelt as well beside Dean. If I could help with cars, I could help here as well.

Looking at my black slacks sunk in the damp dirt, Dean commented, "You're gonna get dirty."

"They will wash."

I followed Dean's movements as he pulled up plants, forming a messy pile. "You wanna help?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, please."

He gave me a look, then questioned, "Do you know what weeds are."

"Plants that have grown in the wrong place."

"What? Oh, yeah, I guess so. Nobody would care if they were growing in a random field or something, but we don't want them here."

"I understand."

"Follow the lines and you'll see what type of plant is supposed to be growing there by the cute, little signs Bobby's put up."

"Bite me," muttered Bobby.

"This row is tomatoes. Or it will be. They're these little guys here - two little leaves. Don't pull these ones out. But these long ones (grass), and these and those - they've gotta go."

I nodded and noticed that the good plants seemed the weakest, without any sharp thorns or tough stalks that the weeds had. I got to work. It was not difficult; the planted sprouts were all the smallest. Despite how dirty the whole job was, I found that grabbing the weeds by the base and slowly pulling all the roots out and then carefully shaking the dirt back into the hole was a rewarding experience.

Once I got the hang of it, my mind could focus on other things than the task at hand. Unobserved, I watched the others around me. Bobby yanked each weed out like it had personally offended him, yet gently brushed loose clumps of dirty away from any of the plants. Dean worked slower, seeming to enjoy being outside in the warm sun. His hands firmly pulled the weeds out as he smiled peacefully to himself. Balthazar was simply standing there, watching all of us. I wondered why he did not just join Gabriel behind us in his lounging; both of them enjoyed the more pleasurable things that humankind had to offer.

We moved through the rows, both Dean and Bobby quicker than me. The tranquility was broken only by an occasional, "Knock it off, Gabriel" from Sam. When we finished weeding, Bobby allowed me to use the watering can to give the plants a drink. "Won't be needing this much longer, once I get the tools to put a drip system in," he grumped towards Balthazar, who ignored him.

"Are we finished?" I asked handing Bobby the watering can.

"All done," said Dean. He looked me over, "Man, Cas, you got filthy. How'd you get dirt in your hair?"

I ran a hand through my hair, hardly feeling it, brushing the dirt out. "Cas." That was new. I did not enjoy his other nicknames, but this one seemed a bit better. I found I did not mind.

"It's all over your face," Dean said, roughly rubbing the back of his hand across my cheek several times. He chuckled. "You need a washcloth." He stepped back, "Actually, I guess you don't. You can just magic it away."

"I cannot do magic." But I shook my clothes and the dirt disappeared.

"Sure, whatever." He turned to Sam, "Hey, go turn on the stove. I left something in the garage, then I'll come help with dinner. We can teach Cas how to chop vegetables."

I frowned as he ran off. Did he think I was some sort of child who had to be shown how to accomplish every single task? I frowned. In the human sense, I suppose I was.

Balthazar interrupted my contemplations, "You just going to stand out here, or are you coming in?"

I responded by turning and walking towards the house. Now that we were in private, I could speak to him about his behavior. "Balthazar, I understand that it is difficult for you, but less antagonism toward the humans, Bobby especially, would make our time here easier."

"But he's so much fun to torment; even more than you are," Balthazar drawled back at me. I shook my head. Balthazar pulled the door open for me, before walking in first. He looked back over his shoulder, "Don't tell a soul, but I might actually be becoming fond of these little mud monkeys. Disgusting, isn't it?"

My heart felt lighter as I followed him indoors. Of course, Balthazar immediately began harassing Bobby, who gave it right back. Gabriel hovered around Sam, getting in the way, and demanding three different kinds of dessert. When Dean came back inside, he shoved a knife into my hand, and tried to teach me, but I started chopping away. After all, I am an angel and have some skill with a blade. I believe he may have been impressed.


	5. 4: In Which There is Nothing on TV

"This sucks!"

I confess I jumped slightly, looking over at Dean after his outburst. With a sharp jab of his finger, he turned the television off and tossed the remote control on the couch next to him. We were alone in the living room; he was on the couch – I on the chair. "What 'sucks,' Dean?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean backtracked, "Okay, it doesn't exactly suck. But I'm getting a tired of it all."

"Tired of what?"

"These pre-approved angel shows." He shrugged. "I mean, I enjoy _Leave it to Beaver_ and _The Andy Griffith Show_ as much as the next guy, but I can only handle so many reruns."

I spoke softly, "There are no new shows, Dean. Not anymore."

"I know that."

I tried another approach. "Shall we watch _Mr. Rogers_? I understand that the program is intended for children - but you become very happy when you watch it, and it is full of good values."

Dean flushed, then snapped, "I don't want to watch _Mr. Rogers_, for Pete's sake!"

"Very well, Dean. How about the show where the man paints 'happy trees?' I enjoy that one." He glared. "Or the one where the Northeastern men do carpentry in their workshop? Bobby likes it." No response. "Very well, Dean. What would you like to watch?"

"I dunno."

"Dean." He was being impossible... and was pouting. Absurd.

"Something else." He threw his arms up in defeat. "You know, Sammy and I never really had much time for sitting around and watching TV. We were too busy fighting on _your_ side, killing horrible monsters, and just trying to survive. I hardly had time to 'keep up with my soaps.'" He glared at me, as if that was somehow my entire fault.

However, I could help fix it. "Perhaps Gabriel could help. He spent several decades among the humans - 'undercover.' I can ask him to recommend some shows that would be more... What is it exactly you're looking for?"

Before Dean could answer, Gabriel appeared, and threw himself down on the couch next to Dean. His short legs draped inelegantly over Dean's knees; Dean immediately kicked them off. "Speak of the devil," Dean muttered.

"I'm flattered." Gabriel drily responded. "So what's on the boob tube?"

I explained, "Assuming that you are referring to the television, that is the point we were discussing, before you... came in." And interrupted. I did not say that last part.

Gabriel shot me a grin that I can only describe as wicked. He snatched up the remote control and started flipping through the channels rapidly. "Cripes, Castiel. What's with this? You have something against shows in color?"

"No-" I protested, but was cut off.

"I know we've talked about this - you can't make our boyos in to perfect, little saints. They're men after all, and men have 'needs.'" I found the way he wiggled his eyebrows at me disgusting.

I watched as the channels started flipping into louder shows before they were cut off by the next one a second later. I caught flashes of blood, shouting, explosions, car, dinosaurs, fighting, alcohol, and scantily clad women wrestling in _mud_. I sighed, looking over at Dean - his face was rapt. I could not compete.

Eventually, Gabriel stopped on a scene with a green muscle car and a black muscle car dangerously chasing one another through a hilly, busy city full of innocent people. Dean agreed with his choice enthusiastically. I leaned back in the chair, and attempted to ascertain the entertainment in the squealing tires and clanging metal fenders.

"You know," began Gabriel after the car chase ended, "what they really need to let off some steam is some porn."

Wide-eyed, Dean darted a look over at both of us. Quickly, I shrouded Gabriel's and my voices from his hearing. "I do not think pornography is appropriate." Dean looked at my lips moving, but could not hear what I was saying. Figuring it out, he turned back to the movie. "In any place, at any time, but especially not in a house full of angels."

"Chill, Castiel. How would you even know if it's appropriate or not?"

I sniffed. I thought it was obvious.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You need to relax, buddy. It's a valid way to release a little stress."

"I am not going to sit here and debate the merits of pornographic filth with you."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

I bit the inside of my mouth. I was not about to lose my composure by screaming and strangling Gabriel. Instead, I stood up quickly. Dean looked up to watch me go. I snapped my fingers, and he was able to hear us again. "Stop corrupting the humans, Gabriel. I mean it." I strode out of the living room, ignoring Gabriel's laughter behind me.

* * *

Later, as I was sitting outside enjoying the night sky as I often did, Dean came and sat down beside me. He did not say anything, and I tried to remember if I had said anything that I needed an apology. Living with humans was difficult.

Instead, Dean spoke up, "Hey, I'm sorry about that." _He_ was sorry? If anything it was that idiot, Gabriel... I refocused on Dean. "Gabriel's just messing with you." Of course, I was already aware of that never-ending fact, but it felt strange, yet good to have Dean trying to comfort _me_, who was charged with his care.

Dean went on, staring out at the dark. "Look, I appreciate you trying to protect my virtue or whatever, but I'm not the perfect man I sometimes get the feeling that you think I am."

"Dean," I placed my hand on his elbow, "you are a good man, but no one is perfect."

He looked down at my hand for a second before responding, a wry smile on his face, "You just might be."

"Nonsense. I am far from it." I removed my hand, and almost missed the warmth of contact.

"Whatever," Dean laughed. "Hey, you're not going to think less of me now - if I, you know, watch shows that aren't family friendly."

I was surprised that he cared about what I thought of him. "Of course not, Dean."

Dean grinned and leaned back on the porch step.

* * *

Much later, when everyone else was absolutely asleep, I went downstairs, and for research purposes only, investigated some of this pornography. Despite my clinical approach, I was disturbed. I could not understand how such base actions could produce such enthusiastic responses from the 'actors.' And the actors themselves - I kept wondering who they were and why their parents had not shown them enough love during their formative years. I did not understand the appeal whatsoever.

It left me feeling confused and sad, which, from my vague understanding of the procedure was not the intended response.

* * *

"Hey, Castiel."

I looked up at the greeting. Sam was leaning on the doorframe of my office. "Good morning, Sam. Will you come in?"

Sam walked in, and sat down on the edge of my bed. If I kept having visitors in my rooms, I was going to need to procure a chair. Dean was always popping in and out, but lately Sam seemed to be coming by more often. I put my pen down - balancing my checkbook could wait. (Not that there were any banks to be doing bills for, but I thought it important to keep track of what we were spending for research. And good stewardship.)

"How are you, Sam?"

"Fine."

"Did you finish your book yet?"

"Nope. I was reading, but... decided to come visit you." He looked nervous. "Are you too busy right now?"

"Of course not. A conversation with you is always enjoyable."

I had an uncanny skill at ending most of them.

Sam did not speak for a few minutes, awkwardly looking around the room as I watched him, wishing I knew his purpose. Finally, I asked, "Are you well, Sam?"

"Oh, yeah," he said somewhat surprised. "I'm fine. I just wanted to... come hang out in here... for awhile."

Although his reasoning sounded weak, I nodded. "I am glad to have you. Is there something specific you wanted to do?"

"Not really." He shrugged, apologetic. "Hey, um, what's up with Gabriel?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I know he's like a big jokester among the angels, right? But is there any reason for him, you know?"

"I am afraid I do not. However, it is true that Gabriel enjoys tricks and mischief. Has he been bothering you too much?"

"No it's not that - well, I mean it is - but it's different than that."

I was confused, so I waited, hoping he could find the correct words to explain his thoughts.

Sam took a deep breath, squinted his eyes, and then blurted, "Gabriel's been flirting with me."

Oh. Sam peaked at me. I gave him a slight smile. "That is just Gabriel; he loves to tease. Especially you, since you are his charge. He has just found a new way to torment you."

Sam's shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. "So you're saying all the touching and hair-ruffling and pinching and calling me "sweetheart" and "babe" is just a big joke to him?"

"Precisely."

"Yeah, he probably wasn't trying to kiss me a while ago. Bet he got a good laugh out of me running away." He laughed. I was concerned. "So next time he tries it, I should just play along or...?

"No!" I said a bit sharply. "I would just ignore him. That has always been my policy. I would never advise encouraging him."

"Okay, cool. Hey, thanks, Castiel." Sam gave me a bright smile. "I'm just going to hide out in here for a little while longer, then I'll go down and face the music. Can I check out your books?"

"Of course."

I returned to facing my desk, but I found myself distracted from work for good while longer.

* * *

I kept a close eye on Gabriel and Sam after that. Sam was definitely correct in the fact that Gabriel was showing him a good deal of inappropriate, extra attention. However, Sam ignoring him slowed Gabriel down to my relief. Sam would often roll his eyes and give me a look that said "Can you believe this guy?" each time Gabriel would try something. Clearly, Sam was relieved that Gabriel was had just found a new way to torment him.

I hoped he was right.

Gabriel had never been one for showing affection. Over time I realized that his teasing was his way of communication with people. After years of working together, I believe he had grown fond of Balthazar and me. Flirting with others, angels or humans, had never been beyond him. Surely having a new target to engage was just more of the same and nothing more. Just Gabriel being Gabriel.

If Balthazar noticed, he did not say anything about it. Bobby did not, as well. Dean was always aware of things that annoyed his brother, so he definitely did. He enjoyed teasing Sam almost as much as Gabriel did and took great pleasure in making fun of "Sammy and his special angel friend" as he called it. He laughed about it often. This made Sam call him names, but there did not seem to be much real anger behind him.

In the end it appeared that I was the most concerned, even it did not affect me directly. I decided that it would be best if I allowed things to develop on their own and leave them alone in this matter. Not that Gabriel would ever listen to any of my advice.

"I don't really hate him," Sam told me one day.

"I am glad, Sam. Hate is not a beneficial emotion."

"In this weird way, it's nice having you guys around. I'll admit, I was pretty pissed and freaked by the idea - but this is actually like a vacation."

"That was the intention." I believe.

"Cool." Sam patted me on the shoulder. "But seriously, it's not fair that Dean got the nice angel when he's the jerk."

I cleared my throat to hide a laugh. "The others can be _difficult_ at times."

"That's a polite way of putting it." Sam laughed. "I really was not expecting this whole thing to be like this. I was expecting more slavery and less leisure time." He gave me one more smile, before heading out to help Dean in the garage.

My brow furrowed - I was glad he was happy, but deep down I still had doubts that we were doing this the correct way.


	6. 5: In Which an Unwelcome Guest Visits

A week after Sam had spoken to me about Gabriel's unwanted and off-putting attentions, we had another visitor. Unlike Zachariah and his charge Agent Henrickson's visit before, we knew it was coming, though it was, though I would never admit it, no more welcome than theirs had been.

Bobby said it best: the big boss was coming for a spot check, so we'd better look like busy little bees.

The Archangel Michael was coming for a visit. And as much as I respected him, I feared he would not appreciate our lenient approach to dealing with our humans. He was often quick to find fault (only in order to make us better versions of ourselves), and I knew we would be found wanting.

We spent the morning cleaning the house to prepare for their arrival. (Truthfully, I fluttered about, as Dean called it, making sure everything was in order – the house had been clean for days at my insistence.) I was checking over the front lawn once more, reminding a pair of bees to stick to the flowers and not the people, when Michael's greeting rang across the yard.

Immediately, I snapped to attention, as Michael and his charge strode over. Well, Michael strode as he always did, and the teenage boy followed in a shuffle, a few steps behind, head down, hands folded neatly in front of him.

"Welcome, Michael." I bowed formally from the waist. I gave his human a nod, but did not speak to him as I did not know his name, and Michael did not introduce him. With an almost silent rustle of invisible wings, Gabriel and Balthazar appeared at my side.  
Balthazar bowed stiffly. He hated bowing and refused to when he could. Michael was not an angel to which honor could be refused.

As he himself was of higher rank and most audacious personality, Gabriel ignored the formalities and smacked Michael on the shoulder with a grin, "A bit early aren't you, big brother? The sugar cookies aren't quite done baking."

"As you know well, little brother, I am not here for food." Michael calmly pulled himself away from Gabriel's side hug.

"You can always come back later," Gabriel said nonchalantly. "When're in the mood. For food." He chuckled.

A slight frown was forming at the corners of Michael's mouth. I spoke up quickly to distract them from one another and their long, _long_ history together. "Would you like to come inside and see our humans, Michael?"

Before answering me, Michael looked around the yard and over the front of the house – but whether he had already found any flaws, I could not say. "Very well." Without looking back at the boy, he commanded, "Adam, wait inside." With a quiet, "Yes, sir," Michael's ward followed him toward the house.

Adam.

Of course. Adam Milligan.

I was ashamed for not realizing it sooner. This young boy had been the chosen vessel for the Enemy, but had resisted mightily. When he was at the last of his strength, he was relieved by a battalion of angels. Here the Prophet's words had become unclear, and I did not know what had happened to the boy – but obviously he had survived. Now he was under the protection of the strongest and highest archangel. It was a high honor for a worthy soul indeed.

I had quickly reviewed all of this in my head as I walked behind the other angels. Shuffling a little, Adam tried to walk near Michael, yet behind the rest of us. I took pity on him, and once inside, I motioned to the living room. "You can wait for Michael in there, Adam Milligan." I could feel my brow furrowing in annoyance at my blunder – it would be just Adam.

Daring a sideways glance at me, Adam mumbled, "Yes, sir. May I please sit?"

I gave him a small smile, "Of course. Gabriel was baking, but I am sure that Sam managed to get enough right for there to be something for you to eat."

"Thank you, sir." Adam sat down stiffly on the edge of the seat. I frowned, but could not spend any longer with him and will myself upstairs with the other angels were talking. Well, Michael was talking or lecturing rather, and Gabriel was listening and Balthazar was half-listening and Dean, Sam, and Bobby were poking their heads up the stairs trying to listen.

"-And you have given them far too much space. They have a large yard to exercise in; there is no need to give them their own rooms. Adam has a bed and a dresser to put his clothes in. That is more than sufficient. You only need a Bible as well. A few other angels had books of sermons or hymns, but as those were written by other men, I do not think that they are entirely appropriate. You really need to get rid of all of these."

With a sharp crackle, Michael pulled the four of us outside into the backyard. He looked around carefully, taking everything in before speaking. "Joshua was always the gardener; personally, I never found much use for plants. Especially flowers."

He turned to me, "You say it gives them something to do?"

I had not, but nodded anyway. Perhaps he had discerned that from Zachariah's report.

"Fine. They can keep it. I remember how much trouble these Winchesters and that old man got themselves into, so anything to keep them busy is good." He looked once more around the yard before appearing back inside, dragging us along with him. He almost crashed into Sam, who gave a startled yelp, but pulled back in time with a disdainful look. Sniffing the air, he commented, "I suppose actually going through all the trouble of actually cooking the food keeps them busy as well."

Gabriel nodded. "Are the cookies finished, Sam?"

Almost nervously, Sam nodded and offered him the plate. Gabriel shook his head, and said softly, "Go give 'em to Adam in the living room. Poor kid looks half starved."

Michael spoke up, "I hope, Gabriel, that you are not implying that I do not take good care of my charge. I assure you that he has three nutritionally balanced meals every day."

"Only a exaggeration, big brother," Gabriel joked as he lead Michael into the dining room. "More like he starved for attention – silly humans getting lonely and all. Come in here and tell me what's been going on with the whole Apocalypse thing, and we'll let our little pets play."

Perhaps my duty was to follow my commanders, but Balthazar and I both turned and followed our humans into the living room. Anyway, Gabriel was closer to Michael than we were and would surely appreciate some time alone with him. Maybe.

The humans sat down around the living room, and Sam offered Adam the plate of cookies. Adam looked to me, silently asking for permission. "Please," I responded, "eat as many as you like." Adam nodded and took one. At first he only nibbled, but after getting a real taste, he quickly scarfed it down and grabbed another two.

"These are good," he mumbled around a mouthful. "I don't get a lot of treats." He swallowed hurriedly. "Not that I'm complaining. There's really no benefit… not that these don't taste great… it's only that –"

"Take it easy, kid; no one's gonna rat you out to the big guy," Bobby said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Adam nodded thankfully and took another cookie.

"So, um," started Sam, "how'd you get stu– chosen by the archangel?"

Adam brushed off his dark blue shirt. "I was Lucifer's chosen vessel, but I resisted him. I was rescued before he could take complete control over my body and this is my reward for my struggles." He said with the air of someone who's explained the same painful story over and over and has found the shortest and clearest way to say so he would not have to repeat any of it.

"Oh," said Sam. "Good job, I guess…" He trailed off, and in the silence following, grabbed a cookie.

Dean leaned back in against the couch back. "Were you a hunter before all this?"

"No, I wasn't anything. I mean, I was in high school – just a teenager. Nothing special," Adam mumbled.

"You were chosen – you are very special," I spoke up from my watch by the doorway.

"He was chosen by the devil," snapped Dean. "I don't call that special."

"He was worthy to be saved…" I began.

Dean interrupted, "He was _worthy_ only because he was chosen. He was nothing – just a kid – but because the devil drew his name out of a hat, he gets to be saved, unlike all those poor slobs dying all over the world?" He paused. "That's how you think of use – lucky?"

"There is no such thing as luck, Dean. There is a plan, and you all did your parts. You are much more precious than you realize."

"To who?" he snapped.

"To me, to Gabriel and Balthazar, and all the angels who have not met you yet, and to the Lord – you have no idea of what you are worth."

Dean snorted and the conversation died then. Even I could feel the awkwardness of this silence in the room. I did catch Dean looking at me with a curious expression his face several times – curious, because I could not put a name to it.

I was concerned.

Fortunately, Michael came soon and took Adam away, warning us to fix the problems that he had listed for us. He handed me a thick scroll, "I believe you are the most trustworthy to deal with this, Castiel."

Nodding, I responded, "Thank you, sir."

Michael looked us all over once more, face serious as always. He turned to the door. "Come, Adam. We will visit Virgil now – with two humans he will certainly need instruction."

Our small crowd watched the two of them until they reached the sidewalk where Michael put the very tips of his fingers on Adam's shoulder and transported them away. I shut the door firmly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean muttered, "That was super awkward."

Sam frowned, "Poor Adam. I get that Michael is the head archangel and all, but he's not much of a people person."

"People angel," Dean corrected with a humorless smirk.

Continuing, Sam said, "I feel bad for the kid – he's like a trained dog or something. Is that how it's supposed to be?"

"You boys in trouble for cutting us slack?" Bobby questioned.

Gabriel shook his head. "No one's in trouble."

"But things are going to change, right?" pressed Sam. "We weren't really eavesdropping, well, we we're, but he gave you that list of things to fix."

I lifted up the scroll in my hand. Looking at Gabriel and Balthazar for confirmation, I crumpled the thick parchment in my fist. The humans stared at me with wide eyes. Gabriel laughed and threw his arm around Sam's shoulders, "Don't worry kids, Michael won't be coming around to smite us."

I agreed, "We were given charge of you – Michael may have different ideas on how to take care of you, but I assure you, the decisions lie with us. We have the responsibility, and we will deal with the consequences." I hesitated, "I have had the understanding that things have be going well, especially in these last few weeks, or am I mistaken?"

Dean poked my arm, "Hey don't you start worrying, Cas – you're just swell. I can't say the same for our other two winged friends, but you're an all right guy - for an angel."

Balthazar snarled, "I may have to take a look at that list, Castiel. Michael mentioned something about more direct punishments, I believe."  
"You will not," I protested, but Balthazar just laughed.

The tension left as we walked out of the room. I was pleased, with both the decision to ignore Michael's suggestions and with Dean's admitted half-hearted approval of me. He was a good man, and had more insight that in those sorts of things.


	7. 6: In Which There is Joy and Angst

"Where are you off too, Cassy?" Gabriel asked me as I straightened my trench coat, preparing to vanish. I would have jumped in surprise if I had been, but I had heard him coming.

"I am not going to tell you." It would be dishonest to say I would, but I would have to refuse his request.

"'Not going to tell?' Hmm… now that does make me curious." Gabriel grinned mischievously as he leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom. "You've been disappearing late every night for a week. You've told no one and obviously don't want the humans to know you're leaving – secrets, secrets! Where are you going?"

I frowned. I most certainly did not want to tell him what I was doing at night, but I had to tell him something. It was not like I was ashamed, but his tone of voice was implying that I was up to no good. "It is a secret."

"I realize it's a secret. That's why I'm asking you about it." Gabriel raised his eyebrow condescendingly.

I refused to give in, "It is a present – a surprise present. I do not want anyone knowing about it."

Gabriel's seemingly-nonchalant-but-actually-tense posture shifted into true relaxation. "Getting a gift for your boyfriend; that's adorable, Castiel! Almost sickeningly sweet (and I would know). "

"Dean is not— it is not just for him. It is a gift for _all_ of them."

Gabriel only smirked and waved his hand dismissively. "Go on then. Be back by breakfast. And bring me back a toy!"

I glared but disappeared to a location halfway across the country.

* * *

It was a few hours after Gabriel had accosted me, and I had finally brought my surprise back to our house. I had been searching for weeks before I had found it and then had to find all the extra parts to go with it. It had been time consuming, but I hoped that they would be pleased and it would all be worth it.

"Dean, Sam, Bobby, will you come with me, please?" I asked the three men as they finished washing up the dishes after their lunch.

"We in trouble, boss?"

"No, Dean, you are not in trouble. Unless – did you do something wrong?"

"Nooooo… don't think so."

"Then you are not in trouble. Please come with me; it's a surprise."

"Oh, Cassy's surprise!" Gabriel jumped up, setting down the now-empty bottle of real maple syrup. "I've got to see this."

I led the way out to the garage, as they chattered behind me. "You don't know what it is?" asked Sam.

"Nope," replied Gabriel. "Either it's amazing, or, knowing Castiel, something _he_ thinks is amazing. Which could be anything. Like a cow. Or a sculpture of creepy children. Once he spend an entire month following monarch butterflies." He poked Dean, "Your angel – is totally weird."

"He's not my angel," Dean grumped as I unlocked the shed.

"Well, you're _his_ human. Don't you think I would have stolen you by now otherwise?"

"W-what!?" Dean sputtered.

I sighed, but gaining their attention, opened the garage doors with just a bit of flourish.

Dean gasped.

Sam gasped.

Bobby harrumphed.

Gabriel laughed. "Where'd you find this old piece of junk!?"

I glared, "The _Impala_ is not a 'piece of junk.' It was written about a great deal in the Prophet Chuck's book; it has great historical and sentimental value. At least I think it does." I hesitated a moment before looking at Dean and the others.

I need not have worried. There was a light in Dean's eyes. There was still a shocked look on his face, but I could see a real joy glowing underneath that.

"Cas," Dean stuttered, finally looking at me. "Where did you—how did you know—I just can't believe it! This is great; really, really great."

Sam laughed. "This is amazing, Castiel. Thank you so much."

Bobby snorted, "You coulda fixed it up, angel-boy. That old girl has seen better days."

"I thought—" I started, but Bobby interrupted.

"I'm only messin' – 'course they'd want to fix it up themselves. That car's been their home in many a storm. You did good."

I smiled; I was so thankful that they were pleased. "It took me awhile to find it," I explained. "The prophecies were unclear about where your last battle had taken place, so I searched several states around my best guess. I did think about fixing it up, but I searched for parts instead. Thanks to Dean's teaching, I checked the car out and wrote down all the parts that I could see that were broken and found replacements. They are on the shelf over there."

Dean grinned and grabbed me in a side hug. "You're the best! Cas, let's get working on my baby right now!"

* * *

Even though he did not have the same love for the car as Dean did, Sam spent more time working in the garage with his brother. At first I felt like an intruder, but at Dean's insistence, I resumed my job as their assistant. I loved hearing stories of their favorite memories involving the Impala.

"We almost lost her a few times," Dean said as he lovingly buffed her hood, "but she's always managed to pull through.

Though I thought Dean's anthropomorphism and insistence that this genderless object was a "her" was strange, I found it charming as well.

As Sam came more often to help fix the Impala, Gabriel, who had previously avoided the "grease pit" – as he called it – came to help, which, in reality, meant to annoy.

"Saaaaaaammmm…. I'm sooooo bored," he would whine, as he juggled three wrenches and a screwdriver.

"Gabe, I can't really entertain you right now," came Sam's muffled reply from underneath the car.

"Why don't you get us something to drink?" suggested Dean as I slid his dolly out with my toe. "And that is not how you treat tools! Put those down!"

Gabriel gave him a lazy smile. The tools suddenly dropped, but I caught them before they clattered to the floor.

Dean glared.

Gabriel laughed. "Deano, you are just precious! Those grumpy little faces you make this whole babysitting thing worth it."

I intervened before things got further out of hand. Setting the tools back in their proper place, I offered, "If you are thirsty, Dean, I will bring you something to drink."

Face relaxing, Dean shook his head. "It's all right, buddy. I just wanted to give him something to do other than being a douche."

"That's gross. And also hurtful. I am going to cry," Gabriel pouted

"What's going on up there?" came Sam's stifled voice once more.

"Nothing, Sam. I'm going to take a break."

"Okay, bring me back something to drink, will ya? It's hot out."

Gabriel popped his head down. "Sam, why didn't you tell me you were thirsty? Here, drink this." A cool glass with tinkling ice cubes, a twisty straw, a tiny umbrella, and at least three pieces of fruit appeared in his hand. Sam took it gratefully.

Dean rolled his eyes and headed to the door. "Come on, Cas. Let's take a walk."

"Certainly." I followed Dean out the door.

Behind me I could hear Sam sputtering. "What is this, Gabe!? Sugar water!?"

"I thought you'd like it!"

* * *

After completing his investigations, Michael had sent all us angels instructions on some changes regarding our charges. Most we had already heard, but I was surprised to read that he wanted more social interaction between the humans.

It was that new guideline that prompted our visit to some old friends. Like the three of us angels, Anna and Hester had decided that they would rather live together than try to figure things out on their own. In years past, I had worked with both Anna and Hester – and for the last forty, we had been in the same garrison. I was pleased to be visiting them, though I never knew what to do during social visits. I had to rely on the others to give me an example.

Dean, Sam, and Bobby were excited to be going as well. For unlike our other recent excursions, they knew one of the humans residing here.

Her name was Joanna Beth Harvelle, and she was a hunter and a close friend. Dean claimed they practically grew up together – between jobs. It was clear by the amount of hugging and inside jokes that this was in fact true. They were also close to her mother, an Ellen Harvelle. She was living a few houses down. Once the initial excitement wore down, Jo (as she demanded to be called) appeared more withdrawn, almost sullen. As the others conversed, I watched her cautiously, concerned for her well being.

As Gabriel talked with Anna and Hester, I sat in the living room with Balthazar, Bobby, and Hester's charge, a redheaded girl named Charlie. Dean and Sam were upstairs with Anna, who had wanted to show them something; I had not asked.

"So do you all go outside much?" the girl Charlie asked.

Confused, I responded, "Yes, we spend a large amount of time in our garden."

"No, I mean do you, like, leave the compound? I need someone to make a run to a GameStop for me. I'm dying for some new, and by 'new,' I mean old, games to play. Hester refuses to go anymore. And she always brings back the weirdest stuff. I'm seriously bored, ya know?"

I blinked. I did not know if it would be appropriate for me to do what she asked, let alone precisely what she was asking.

Balthazar spoke, slowly, but his tone dripping with sarcasm, "We don't run errands." Seeing her pout, he relented just slightly. "Tell Hester what you want to play; she has the capability to just make it appear."

Bobby snorted. Charlie giggled a bit, saying, "I suppose you're right. Hester's really swell. Not as hot as Anna though. Redheads! Oh wait, I would know, wouldn't I?" She gave her own red hair a silly flip. "I don't see why Jo doesn't like her. I'm glad you guys came to visit us though. To top off the totally lame entertainment, we've basically been on house arrest since 'The Incident.'"

"What happened?" asked Bobby.

"I'm _so_ not supposed to talk about it, but Jo like tried to run away and Anna and Hester were going nuts trying to find her – Jo musta been a hide and seek champ or something. They didn't want anyone knowing they'd lost her, right? So when they finally found her, they were pretty pissed. As you can imagine." Belatedly, she remembered, "But don't tell anyone I told you, mmkay? I'd be in so much trouble. At least, more than usual."

* * *

On the walk home, things were subdued. After Charlie's chattering, I was concerned – not only for Jo, but for Dean and the others. If Jo wanted to leave this place so badly, did they as well? I pushed aside the thought they Dean was only pretending to be my friend.

Later that night, as I walked down the hall, checking to make sure everything was well as I did each night, I heard Sam and Dean talking in Dean's room. Though it pains me, I admit that I stopped to eavesdrop. They were clearly in the middle of a conversation about our visit, especially about what was going on with their friend, Jo.

Sam's whisper reached my ears first, "I can't believe she ran off."

His voice a bit louder, but still in a gruff whisper, Dean replied, "I can; it's Jo. She was always getting into trouble. That's why Ellen was always so strict."

"I suppose you're right. Where was she planning on going?"

"No idea, but she still thinks it's a good idea."

Sam paused before asking, "Do you think she's right – that it's not like _they've_ said: war and destruction everywhere?"

"If you're asking if I think Cas lied to us – then no. Gabriel, maybe; Balthazar, definitely; but not Cas. He doesn't have a dishonest bone in his body."

I felt my face warming. Human bodily functions were so strange at times. I will my body to calm and stay absolutely still.

Sam spoke slowly, like he was pondering each word, "Do you think she's right – that we've given up?"

"Michael sure seems to think so; we're like annoying little yappy dogs to him – nothing more than pets that no one wants."

"I'm serious, Dean. I know we're ultimately on the same team – the good guys – and this is supposed to be our reward, but do you ever feel like we're traitors?"

"How so?"

"Isn't it the American dream, to be free? Give me liberty or give me death and all that? It's like we've gotten Stockholm syndrome. We become friends with our captors; we sympathize with them, even care for them. Would we ever run away, even hurt them if necessary?"

There was quiet for several minutes. Panic rose in my throat with every silent second. Finally Dean responded, "It's good here, Sammy. We're safe and we have each other. As much I love being out on the road, fighting monsters, I don't want to leave. I guess Jo's right. I just don't want to lose this. But you're right – I'm supposed to want to get the hell out of Dodge. I just don't. Something's wrong."

"Something's always wrong wherever we are. Maybe this wrong isn't so bad on the outside, at least."

"Maybe." Dean's answer weighed heavily on me. "I can't think about this anymore; I need sleep. Scram."

Before they saw me, I disappeared back into my room. I felt sick. Though I knew how impossible it was, my heart physically hurt. I had no desire for meditation; with a quick burst, I appeared out in the yard and went for a long walk out in the woods behind our house. I only returned home when I saw the sun rising, pale and cold in the east.


	8. 7: In Which Prophecies are not Helpful

Ever since their meeting with Jo and their secret conversation, Dean and Sam had been acting different from their normal selves. I felt guilty for my own actions and for the fact that they still did not fully trust us. I believe they might have felt guilty as well, though I could not be entirely sure. Gabriel and Bobby noticed and were more subdued than usual. If Balthazar knew, he certainly did not care. Things were strained and unpleasant.

I consulted several books on conflict resolution and making friends, but none of them seemed truly appropriate for our situation, let alone species difference. So I withdrew; I stopped helping with the Impala and spent more time walking in the woods or checking out different places outside the compound. Fearfully, I tried to avoid them, so that our friendship could not end.

* * *

It took about a week of this before Dean followed me into the woods, cornering me, and forcing me to talk.

"Cas, what is up with you lately?"

"I do not know to what you are referring."

"Ever since… 'that day,' you've been avoiding me like the plague. You're acting pretty messed up. What's wrong?"

I did not have the words to express my feelings fully. I shook my head.

"Look, Sam thinks you heard the two of us talking. Is that what this is?" I nodded. Dean spoke quickly, "That was just talk, you know? Sam, Bobby, and I aren't planning a great escape or anything. Jo probably is, but she's always been like that – more guts and brains than sense."

I responded slowly, "though that was part of my concern, I was more worried that our friendship would be damaged if you returned to feeling about your situation like you did when you first arrived."

Dean hesitated before replying, his brow furrowed, "I'm not following you there, buddy."

I tried to explain, "When you first arrived, you thought you were going to be treated like slaves and abused; you were so angry and afraid. I was worried that this would set all the progress we have made in our friendship back. That is why I have been avoiding you – all of you."

"You're saying you stopped trying to be friends, because you're worried we won't be friends anymore? That doesn't make one lick of sense." Dean punched my upper arm, but not with much force, and I gathered the intention was playful. "I hope we're still friends. After all, for a jerkwad angel, you're not so bad."

"Thank you, Dean. For a human, you are an exquisite specimen."

I could not understand the bright, red flush that spread across Dean's cheeks at my compliment. It was a pretty color.

* * *

Things did improve after that, though they did not reach the same level of comfort as before. At times, at my very weakest, I felt a small about of resentment for this Jo, though she had been deemed worthy to be saved. More so than ever was the question of what the relationship between the humans and the angels was supposed to be. Feeling lost, I requested the guidance of one of the wisest angels, hoping that he would have some answers.

Even though Michael was the highest among the archangels, he was a military leader, so for spiritual guidance all angels looked to Joshua. He was humble, wise, and lived simply, listening to the voice of the Lord. His wisdom was much sought after when there were disagreements among our ranks.

Though I offered to go to his home, Joshua insisted on coming to ours, bringing his charge and some friends with the day I asked to speak with him. "Good morning, Castiel," he greeted me, handing me a large basket of apples. "Let's get the rest of this inside before we make introductions." He and the others were carrying large baskets, boxes, and containers full of produce and flowers.

Obediently, I followed Joshua inside as he led the way through our house to the kitchen. "Here we go. Gabriel, clear off some space on the counter; we come bearing many gifts!" Gabriel did as asked. There was much bustling as we hurried to place all the baskets and buckets of things they had brought us.

"Nancy, give your box of squash to Sam, which can go by the sink. Gabriel, you should try grilling those up with some onions, garlic, and olive oil. Inias, I think you have the garlic cloves; put those in the panty. Balthazar, take the rest of what Nancy is carrying and make a spot for it. Bobby, you and Kevin can fill up the kitchen table." Finally, having unloaded everything, he stood back and placed a large vase of wildflowers right in the middle. Everything smelled earthy and warm and good.

Joshua spread his arms and stated, "I hope you don't think that I'm putting your little garden down; it's coming along so very nicely. But the Lord gave me a green thumb and a generous spirit. I hope you'll enjoy all this. Now, let me meet all of you." Joshua went around to Dean, Sam, and Bobby, taking each of them by the shoulders and looking deeply into their eyes, as he gave them a warm smile. I wondered if they would feel uncomfortable by this close contact, as Dean often expressed feeling around me, but they only smiled back.

"I am so pleased to finally meet you all. Now, I think you angels all know Inias, don't you? I don't believe he's worked with you for awhile. He's been protecting of Kevin Tran, here, for over three years, but Kevin only met him when the end came. Kevin is a prophet; his ways is different from Chuck's if you're wondering. And my young friend here is Nancy Fitzgerald. She's a brave girl, who despite having no prior supernatural experience defeated a dozen demons."

I looked at Nancy in surprise; unlike hunters, most humans who encountered demons for the first time usually and unfortunately died. The girl ducked her head shyly. "It wasn't just me; some friends helped."

Joshua patted her shoulder fondly. "But you gave them the courage and you survived." Joshua then introduced Sam, Dean, and Bobby to the humans. I waited somewhat impatiently for a moment to question Joshua about my concerns, but soon he had us all washing the fruit and vegetables or cutting them up to make 'a light snack before dinner,' as he put it.

Everyone moved about cheerfully, chatting and getting to know one another. I was the only one ill at ease; even Balthazar was laughing with Inias about some trouble Kevin had gotten them into.

I tried getting Joshua alone so that I could speak with him, but that proved difficult. He said that we would talk after dinner, but then we had desert, and was growing dark and I was growing desperate.

"Please, Joshua," I implored, having taken a hold of the sleeve of his sweater. "I truly need to speak with you on a matter of grave importance."

Joshua looked me over. "That does sound serious, my friend. All right, let's talk out in your lovely, little garden. Come on, Kevin."

I followed him outside, entreating, "I do not believe that this is a matter that the boy needs to hear. I would prefer it if—"

"Castiel," Joshua interrupted. "I am bringing the boy for a reason. Now," he called, "Gabriel and Balthazar, you come too." The two other angels looked annoyed for a moment at being summoned from the other room, but stopped when they realized where they were. "Go ahead, Castiel. Ask."

I looked up at the night sky, wishing for something that I could not name. Finally, I began, "It has been difficult, living with the humans. We fought a great deal at the beginning, but over time they grew to respect us, and we began to care for them." At Balthazar's snort, I added, "Some less than others."

I went on, "We had—have a friendship. But Michael came to visit, and we met a girl, named Jo, and they view things so differently. None of us know the right way. Are we supposed to treat them like animals that need care and supervision," I looked guiltily at Kevin, "and are they supposed to fear and despise us? I feel lost without guidance." I could think of nothing more to say, but my heart felt heavy and pained in my chest.

Joshua looked all three of us over, before patting me on the shoulder. "I can see how much you have struggled with this – all of you. Kevin here was given the task of keeping and reading the prophesies concerning the building and care of this sanctuary. He knows all the rules and guidelines for taking care our humans. But let me tell you, they are vague, even for these end times. They're really more a list of who to save and who to pair them up with and where we should live and other basic things."

He leaned back against our garden fence. "I find it interesting how each pair of human and angel has chosen to live differently. That is good." He smiled comfortingly, "I know you want me to tell you what to do, how to behave, but I'm not going to. You think that's a bad thing, but let me tell you that it's not. You have freedom – freedom to be friends, to respect and care for, and to love. Most of all, love. It's not often that we angels get the opportunity to make our own choices like this. You should make the best of it. I have been very pleased with the way I have seen you all acting tonight. I hope this comforts you in some way."

With those words he left, summoning Nancy, Kevin, and Inias with him. I turned to the other two. Gabriel smiled at me. "Feeling better now, Cassy? I sure was getting sick of that hangdog expression of yours."

I ignored his comparison of me to a member of the canine family and asked, "Should we tell them?"

Balthazar said, "Yes. I'm sick of the boys acting like I'm a monster again. I mean, I am quite monstrous for an angel, but I find their tiptoeing tedious."

Gabriel laughed at that, and I almost joined him. It was strange, but my heart no longer felt heavy and weary. In fact, I could not feel it at all.

* * *

That night we went back indoors, and Gabriel explained what Joshua had told us. I could feel the tension leaving the room.

"So we're free to do whatever we want?" Dean asked, leaning forward from his seat on the couch.

"No," stated Balthazar as I said, "Within reason."

Gabriel compromised, "You're free to do what you want within the rules already in place. I feel like they've been working well so far, don't you? 'Course we can always give you more chores, if you feel like you have too much free time on your hands."

Sam rolled his eyes, saying, "I think we have enough to do around here, especially with Gabriel making most of the mess."

"And Castiel cleaning most of it up," Balthazar muttered.

I ducked my head; I thought no one had noticed my apparent addiction to late night cleaning sessions. I could hardly help it if I had a higher standard of livability than these slatterns.

"For the most part, I've been happy with how things are arranged," said Bobby. We all agreed, setting our arrangement back to the way it had been. This time it felt… solid, somehow. Our lives were now defined by standards that we all agreed on. I smiled at Dean; once more, we were friends.

Dean clasped a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, boss. It'll take a few days, but my baby will be all put back together if we actually work on her." As the pair of us walked outdoors, his voice dropped, "I'm glad we're friends again – I mean, I'm happy to have my assistant back."

"We make a good team, do we not?"

"We certainly do, Cas."


	9. 8: In Which There is Much Celebration

"Gabriel, Bobby, get over here!" shouted Dean.

Gabriel appeared with a disgruntled Bobby in tow. "What is it, Deano?"

"It's time."

A huge grin appeared on Gabriel's face, matching the one on Bobby's. The excitement was palatable. I helped Bobby open the garage doors, swinging them wide. We stepped outside out of the way next to Balthazar, who was leaning against the hood of another old car. Balthazar had been around Dean and I a lot more as we worked on the car. I was glad that he seemed to be growing more accepting of the humans' presence.

"Moment of truth," came Sam's muffled voice from inside the Impala as Dean put the key in the ignition. I could see him take a deep breath, then turn the key. Without pause, the engine roared for a few seconds before settling into a rough purr.

Why did was it named after an antelope when a member of the Felidae family would be a much more suited namesake?

Both Sam and Dean let out a loud whoop. Putting the car into drive, Dean drove out of the garage and out into the yard. He rolled down the window, "Cas, Bobby, get in. We'll take you other two for a spin later."

I looked to Gabriel who smiled, "Well, get in. I'll have Sammy take me on a private drive later."

Happily, I climbed in the car. Dean's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, "Thanks, Cas." So much emotion was concealed behind those words that I could only nod and smile back at him. I was pleased with so many things, not the least was his gratefulness.

Dean drove us down the street, checking the brakes, headlights, and so on as we went along. Bobby and Sam were asking him various questions about how it was handling. Sam wanted to know when it was his turn to drive, and Dean laughingly responded that he just got his baby back – so never. Or at least not until after dinner.

I was content to sit back and listen to their conversation as I stared out the window. I imagined that this was like what being a part of a human family was – playful, accepting, and loving.

Dean took us around the neighborhood until we got to a long, straight side street. With a "Hold on, everybody," he gunned the engine letting it roar to full power and flew down the road. I smiled, feeling the rushing wind from the open window hit my face. After another ten minutes of driving around the compound, Dean finally drove back.

Gabriel and Balthazar were waiting for us outside. As Bobby and I climbed out, Sam yelled for the two of them to get in and take their turn. Gabriel called back, "I'll have Sam drive me around later when you finally let your baby brother behind the wheel; Balthazar can take his turn now."

Dean nodded and looked at me, "Want to go again?"

Balthazar grinned at me as he slid in the front passenger seat, "I don't think we need a chaperone. Castiel has to set the table for dinner."

Dean frowned but shrugged. "Thank you for the ride, Dean," I said as they pulled away. I should have thanked Balthazar for the reminder (it was my night after all), but they were already gone.

After finishing my chore, I helped Gabriel and Sam finish up dinner. Almost a half hour later Dean and Balthazar came back. I walked outside to greet them and see how the car had done. Dean had dropped Balthazar at the front door, before pulling the car around to the side of the house under an overhang Bobby had built especially for it.

As Dean got out, I noticed that his face was red and frowning. It was so different from his happy expression of less than an hour ago, that I was immediately worried. "What is wrong, Dean? Did something happen to the car? We can fix it, you know? We did before."

Dean laughed shortly. "The car is fine, Cas. Don't worry about it."

Popping the hood of the engine as he taught me, I looked over the contents. "Are you sure?" The shiny, impeccable engine gleamed reassuringly back at me. With a sigh, I closed it. "She—I mean, _it_ looks fine to me."

With a more relaxed laugh than before, Dean responded, "Of course she is. I'm proud of you, Cas; I'll make a mechanic out of you yet. Too bad you already have a day job."

I was confused. "I know it is different from your human occupations, but I do have a job during the day and at night as well."

"I know, Cas. Come on; let's get inside before Gabriel eats everything."

As he tugged me inside, I asked him in all seriousness, "You would tell me if something was wrong, would you not?"

"With the car? – absolutely. You're my assistant, right?"

"With the car – and anything else."

"Sure, boss; whatever you say. Now, come on, I'm starving."

"You are not starving, Dean."

"Sure, I am!"

* * *

As Dean assured me, the Impala ran perfectly. Dean took pleasure in going for long drives often with Sam or me, acting as navigator. At first I was reluctant to let them go anywhere for long distances by themselves (not because I was worried that they would cause trouble, but they were under our protection and I became somewhat anxious when they were away), but they persuaded me. After all, they only had to have the slightest feeling of fear or worry and Gabriel and I would be there instantly. That actually happened a few times on accident when Dean took a corner too sharply.

Although the sanctuary was not large, there were plenty of wooded roads for them to explore. I believe it reminded them of their days growing up and as hunters, full of long road trips across the North American continent.

It took some getting used to, but I found that this slow form of travel were a form of relaxation. Plus I enjoyed spending time in their company. Bobby often said that sitting in "that dang car too long made his joints all stiff – so stop asking me, you idjit," and enjoyed spending more time in the garden. Sam was able to persuade Gabriel to take a trip if there was a promise of stopping off somewhere to get a treat along the way. Several female humans appeared to be very fond of the archangel and always had cookies or a cake around their house.

However, as I had come to learn, humans are often restless, and once this task was over. Dean and the others were looking for more excitement.

So Gabriel and Balthazar decided to throw a party.

I was not informed until the first guests started showing up.

* * *

"Dude, Sam, stop drinking all the beer. Pass me one!" the former-hunter known as Ash leaned over me as he tried to snag a beer from the cooler that Balthazar kept refilling when I wasn't looking.

"Ge' off o' Cas," slurred Dean, playfully shoving Ash from his spot on the floor on my other side. "He's m'angel."

"Ash, I believe that you've imbibed enough."

"Nuh-uh. Virgil said I co' drink all I wan.' Iffen I'd just shuddup." He placed a finger somewhere near his lips. "Shhh! I have ta shuddup."

Virgil said seriously, "They promised to behave if I would prevent them from getting alcohol poisoning. Ash is currently at .17 and Garth is only at .1. I will remove some of the alcohol from their blood in three minutes. You are responsible for your own humans." With that he sat back in his chair.

"Sure, we can't get you anything, Virgil?" Gabriel asked again. I could now tell that he was teasing; Virgil had always been one of the most serious angels in the garrison. Not that he would ever say it, I was sure that he hated being given two humans to take care of, especially since these two seemed strange even by human standards. However, they were friends of our humans, and I was trying to enjoy their company for their sake.

Perhaps Virgil had a good idea. "Dean, how are you feeling?" I asked, placing the back of my hand on his forehead (the best way, according to my research). He felt warm, but not feverish.

Dean blinked at me with unfocused eyes. "Cas, you've no idea."

"To what are you referring, Dean?"

He pushed my hand off and shifted so he was leaning against me. "I've got a bi' of a headache."

I smiled slightly. "I imagine you do." Pressing my two first fingers gently back on his forehead, I cleared some of the alcohol from his system. "This should help."

He looked up at me, green eyes bright again. "Thanks, buddy."

Balthazar snorted. "You two finished?" I glared at him, not fully understanding his implications, but knowing that they were unfriendly.

Gabriel jumped in, "Let's play a drinking game!" He snapped his fingers, causing Sam to shake his head clear and Bobby to sit up from his nap.

"No, you idjit," snorted Bobby. "I ain't playing games with angels. That's just stupid."

Everyone else ignored him.

"Beer pong!" called out Sam.

Dean snorted. "None of your stupid college games."

"Spin the bottle?" asked Gabriel.

"You do realize there are like no girls here, right?" asked Ash.

"Yeah, who planned this party?" asked Dean. "Someone forgot the women."

"I did not," I muttered.

Dean heard me and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm sure you would have done a great job if they'd told you about it."

"Thank you, Dean."

"You do realize there would have been no beer, right?" asked Balthazar. "I must admit I'm growing fond of this human beverage." I looked at him carefully – he looked fine, despite drinking about ten gallons of various drinks. I was fairly certain that angels could not become drunk, but it was my job (as designated driver) to make sure he was fine.

"He probably would have checked out _Miss Pretty-Pretty's Party Planning Packet_ from the library and we'd be having our second round of tea and crumpets," laughed Gabriel. Everyone else's chuckles stopped when he doubled over in pain – from where it came from, I have no idea.

"All right, lay off Cas," said Sam. "Let's find something to do. What about Never Have I Ever?"

"Noooo," shuddered Dean, never one to be telling his darkest secrets.

"Truth or Dare?" asked Garth.

"Absolutely not," said Dean. "No little kid stuff. How about Circle of Death or Beer Hunter?"

"Those games are gross, Dean. I'm out of ideas. Let's just watch a movie."

"I'm going to get back to my nap," muttered Bobby, sinking back into the recliner.

"I've got one," stated Balthazar. We all looked at him. "Seven Minutes in Heaven."

Dean snorted, "Have you forgotten the lack of ladies?"

"Doesn't matter – I pick Sam first."

Garth's explanation of, "That's not how you play," was interrupted by Balthazar grabbing Sam's arm and transporting them to the nearest broom closet. There was a muffled thump, an annoyed shout, and Gabriel was at the door, pulling it open so hard it broke the lock and the hinges. Ignoring Sam's yelp, he pulled him bodily out of the closet and faced Balthazar.

I rose quickly and put myself between the two of them and the humans. Gabriel's face was tight with fury. The laughter had left Balthazar's, leaving him serious and still. The whole room was tense; I was ready to spring into action if they began to fight, something too dangerous for any human to be around.

Suddenly, Balthazar relaxed and smirked. "Sorry, Gabriel. No harm done."

It took a few moments, but Gabriel returned the smile. "No harm done." Too low for the humans to hear, he hissed, "Watch yourself, or have you forgotten who I am?"

"'Course not. I do apologize."

Gabriel turned, his shoulder brushing up against my arm as he sauntered back to the group. He knelt over Sam's somewhat stunned form. "You all right?"

"Yup," said Sam, shaking his long form loose as he stood up with Gabriel's helping hand. "I'm just fine."

"Good." Gabriel stared into Sam's eyes, and, despite their height difference, they appeared equal. "I truly would hate for anything bad to happen to you. You are my charge after all. The paperwork would be atrocious if you died."

I sighed, moving back to my seat by Dean. The party appeared to be over. "After I drive the others home, I'll help you clean up," I told him.

Virgil rose, unconcerned about the whole incident. "Castiel, you have lived too long with the humans. I am an angel. There is absolutely no need for us to be limited by human means of transportation." With that he turned, grabbed Garth and Ash by the arms, and the three of them disappeared.

Dean laughed at me as I turned to Balthazar. "Why did you tell me I needed to be the designated driver?"

Everyone laughed, once against at my expense. But I found that I did not mind, as Dean pulled me outside, saying, "Come on, Cas. I'll teach you all about the wonders of drinking. These knuckleheads will clean up."


	10. 9: In Which There are Demons and Others

I was standing over Dean, guarding him as he slept, when I heard the Michael's warning in my head, moments before the audile klaxon sirens rang out over the neighborhood. The noise started Dean awake. He stared at me a few moments before he blinked and said, "What are you doing, Cas?"

"I was watching you."

"While I slept? I'd say that's creepy, but you're just being you." He scratched his neck, allowing the blankets to slip off his well-formed and bare chest. "What's that noise?"

I shook myself from my reverie, and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of bed. "Get dressed and met downstairs. I will find out what set the alarm off." I appeared downstairs, finding Gabriel and Balthazar.

"Something's wrong," stated Gabriel. "Get the humans downstairs. I'll go find out what's going on." With a swift rustle of feathers, he disappeared. Balthazar nodded at me; the basement was the safest place in the house.

Bobby walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and mumbling about a "dang hangover I thought I wasn't gonna get." Balthazar quickly pressed two fingers to his forehead, relieving the pain. "Thanks," mumbled Bobby, sober and awake.

Sam hurried in, fully dressed and ready to go. I nodded at Balthazar, who turned two them and said, "All right, you two let's get downstairs.

I darted back to Dean's room, who was hopping around on one foot, trying to get his jeans on and searching for something in his dresser. I stared at him before asking, "What are you looking for, Dean?"

Startled, he almost fell, but I quickly caught him. With a annoyed grunt, I willed his pants on. With a flush, Dean buttoned them, saying, "Can you take them off too, magic man?"

"Where are your shoes, Dean?" I asked, looking in his closet.

"Ah, shoes. I was looking for my knife. Kinda forgot that all weapons were confiscated for a minute there."

I glared at him. "Get downstairs, right now. We need to find out whatever is going on before we start a fight. I'll bring your shoes."

Seeing my look, he hurried to obey. "Don't forget socks," he called back as he darted down the stairs.

Finally, I made my way down to the basement, closing the sigil-protected doors behind me. I tossed Dean his boots and socks. "Have you heard from Gabriel, yet?" I asked Balthazar.

"Not yet. As archangel he's probably been called to duty if there's a real emergency."

"I never knew we had sirens," said Sam. "Shouldn't we have had fire drills or something?"

"Demon drills maybe," added Dean.

I glared at the both of them. If something had broken through our heavenly protected defenses, then it was no laughing matter. Then again, everything was a laughing matter to these two.

Suddenly Michael's words sounded in my head. "Demons have overrun the perimeter. Get all humans to headquarters. Further commands will be given there." Accompanying his instructions, pictures appeared as well, first an image of thousands of possessed running in waves through the boundaries, then a second of angels and humans meeting up in the former city hall. "You must travel by foot. Ability to fly hindered at the time."

I looked at Balthazar; immediately we knew what to do. I shoved the humans towards the stairs. "To the Impala. Now." They did not argue. Balthazar took the lead, and I the rear. Chances were unlikely that there were demons already in the house, but they would be in the neighborhood shortly, especially since we lived on the outskirts of town. We raced through the house and out into the garage. "Dean, you drive. I'll tell you were to go."

"In the back now, boys," Balthazar firmly pushed Sam and Bobby into the backseat. "Buckle up."

With a welcome purr, the Impala started up. "Do you remember where we first met, Dean?" I asked.

"Yep."

"That's where we're going. I'll show you the way. Drive quickly."

Dean followed my instructions as I led him down the road. "What's going on?" asked Sam from behind my head.

"Demons, dear. They've overrun our defenses," said Balthazar.

"How is that possible?"

"Sheer numbers and a whole lot of hate."

"There's a mob of them ahead. Take the next right, Dean."

Within ten minutes, we were unloading at the headquarters. I ushered them all inside. "Should we go get the others; we're the only ones with a car?" asked Dean.

"They're not our responsibility. We need to get you inside. Right now."

Everything was loud. Humans were shouting nearby, while explosions and gunfire could be heard in the distance. That would be the demons with the guns. Other than our swords and powers, we had no offensive weapons. Our walls were our protection. Unwise, I now realized.

Inside the building, all the humans were being gathered into an inner room with many chairs. I made sure Dean, Sam, and Bobby were sitting, before I told them, "I will go find out what is going on."

"You stay, I'll go," said Balthazar. I nodded; I would rather be with my charge.

A few minutes later, Balthazar hurried back. "The perimeter has been re-fortified. No more demons are getting in. Now Michael is sending groups of angels to hunt any demons down that are already inside. Gabriel and Raphael are with him. They've cast some spell or curse that's hindering some of our powers – like flight – but it's weakening already."

"Good. Do they need more angels to help fighting?"

"Yes, I'm going, but Michael said for you, Samandriel, Inias, and Hester to stay in this room with the humans. A few others will be posted around the building. I need to go tell the others." After his explanation, Balthazar left and the humans turned to me.

Quickly, I made sure all the humans, around a hundred or so, were uninjured. Other than a few scratches and bruises (more from running than from actual demon encounters), everyone was fine. Or at least that is what I believed until Ellen came up to me.

"Castiel, I need to talk to you."

"Are you injured?" I looked her over.

"I'm fine. Come over here so we can talk in private." I followed her to the side of the room. "My daughter, Jo's missing. In all the chaos, I think she ran off."

I quickly scanned the room. "What makes you think that she is not on her way over here?"

"Right when the alarms went off, Anna asked Uriel to get Jo and bring her on the way. She had to go help Raphael or something. When we went over there, she wasn't there. We looked for awhile, but a group of demons attacked and Uriel had to get me to safety. He went out looking for her. I don't know if Anna knows yet. She's my daughter, Castiel; I need to do something."

"I understand. I will make sure that she is found. Stay with the others." I led her back, and called for Anna with my thoughts.

"What is it, Castiel?"

"Jo is missing."

I could feel her biting back a curse. "I can fly a short distance – be right there."

With a rustle, Anna appeared at my side. She glared at Ellen. "What happened? Where is Uriel?"

Ellen crossed her arms over her chest. "Uriel is out looking for my daughter, who is _your responsibility_."

Anna's face was a furious storm. Her tone was clipped and tight with anger. "Where is Uriel?"

I stepped in, "Probably somewhere near your house. He may need assistance locating Jo."

Anna snarled, "I had to leave Raphael for this. There will be consequences when I find her."

"Of course, Anna, but first we must make certain that she is safe." I called Inias over. "We need to go looking for a missing human. Please keep the rest of the humans safe." He nodded in agreement.

"I'm coming with you," said Ellen, Sam, and Dean at the same time.

"Let's get your weapons then."

* * *

Once Sam, Dean, and Ellen were outfitted with their weapons, Anna and I hurried them out of the city hall. A few of the guards were unhappy with letting us leave, but the allowed it.

"Stay close to me," I warned the three of them. Together we snuck through the neighborhood toward Anna and Jo's house, encountering only a few demons, which either Anna or I dispatched, along the way. Finally we made it, but there was no sign of Jo.

Uriel was there, however. He spoke to Ellen, "I have been unable to locate your daughter."

"I will find her," Anna stated. "Let's split up." With that she ran off.

"Bye," Dean muttered, glaring after her.

"Anna has always preferred working on her own," I tried to explain. As soon as I finished speaking a group of demons ran down the street. I appeared that they were running from something, but they stopped as soon as they saw us.

Both groups stared at one another as we slowly moved into defensive positions – Uriel and Ellen next to one another; Sam and Dean behind and to my sides. With a roar, the demons charged. I pulled out my sword and swung into action, killing any demons that came near, keeping close to Dean and Sam at all times. The Winchesters were using their guns, letting me take care of any near demons. There were dozens of them, full of horror and fury, desperate to kill or to escape.

Uriel and Ellen fought well together at each other's backs. When we had vanquished the last demon, Uriel turned to me and said, "We will take Samuel to Gabriel as we look for Jo. Stay clear of any larger groups."

"Very well. Come, Dean, we will look in this direction. I have a feeling that she may have gone toward the perimeter."

"Splitting up sounds like a bad idea," Dean said as he jogged behind me.

"Uriel is right – Sam needs to be with Gabriel. It's the safest place for him. If I have to watch him, my attention is divided from you – and you are my responsibility, not him."

"All right; if you say so."

I used what of my powers as I could to check the houses as we passed them for any sign of life – human or demon, but there was nothing to indicate she was here. We ran a few minutes in silence, until Dean said, somewhat out of breath, "Ellen and Uriel were a little scary."

"What do you mean?"

"They fight really well together. I think they've been practicing."

"I believe that you are correct." Not that I could see what this had to do with looking for Jo.

"I'm out of shape."

"No, you're not."

Dean chuckled, "I'm out of breath, aren't I? We should do that – practice, I mean. Gotta stay in top fighting form, if we've got to protect ourselves from demons."

"Very well, Dean. But we should be silent."

"Sure thing, boss."

Eventually we made it to the wall. A large wall, several miles long and fifty feet high had been erected as a safeguard against enemies when the compound was established as a safe haven. This part stood tall and untouched.

"No demons came in this way," I stated, checking the wall for any defects.

"And I doubt Jo could have made it outside. Hey, why do you think she's doing this – I mean, are we even sure that she's actually running away? Maybe she just got separated or taken."

"Unlikely, there were no signs of demons at her house before Uriel and Ellen came there. He would know. I believe you have realized that your friend has been acting differently," I tried to keep my tone neutral as we walked along the edge of wall.

Dean shrugged. "You're probably right. Let's keep looking."

Dean did not appear overly concerned and perhaps he was right. After all, many humans had lived their lives fighting against demons without angelic protection. Only now there was a much higher concentration of them. Thus I could not shake the worry that I felt.

* * *

When the small group of demons approached us, I was only slightly concerned. But when the Leviathan in their midst revealed itself, I felt a tremor of fear course through me. I could not defeat a Leviathan on my own, but I would protect Dean.

"Stay close to me."

Hearing the tightness in my voice, Dean asked, "What's wrong?"

"The man in the suit – he is a Leviathan. He somehow escaped from Purgatory. Things are worse out there than I thought."

"So not a giant sea monster, then? Well, how do we kill it?"

"The weapons we have now will not kill it, but we can wound it and escape. Aim for the demons, I will try to behead the Leviathan."

It was difficult for me, but I trust Dean enough to take care of himself against the demons as I went after the Leviathan. He was strong and pushed me back several times, before I managed to get a hold of him around the neck. Just as I was about to decapitate him, I heard a demon call out, "Stop! Or your boyfriend here gets it." A demon possessed female had a knife pressed flush against Dean's neck. "And he's so pretty it'd be such a shame."

She pressed the blade tighter against Dean's neck. A crimson drop appeared against his taut throat. The demon smirked, "Come on angel boy, you know what to do. Hands off the black-slime monster."

I released the Leviathan slowly and took a few steps back. "Release him," I demanded, voice as hard as I could make.

The demon traced her fingernails down the side of Dean's face. "Maybe I'll keep him."

"You'll die first," without warning, I leaped forward, yanking the knife away from Dean's throat. I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him against my body. I tried to grab the demon with my other hand, but she fell to the ground. With a quick warning to Dean to shut his eyes, I let out a brilliant beam of light in all directions. The few remaining demons were killed immediately, the Leviathan was knocked over, and only the female demon escaped my wrath. I stared at her, "Now you die."

As I let Dean go, he cried out. As I turned back to him, the female demon escaped in a stream of black smoke, releasing the blonde girl. I did not care. "Dean, are you injured?" I check his neck. No more than a few drops of blood had been spilt.

"Not my neck, my shoulder. Hurts."

I pulled his sleeve up. There on his shoulder was a mark in the shape of my hand. I place my hand on it to check. Dean shuddered. "I do not know how this happened," I stated as I removed the pain; the scar stayed.

"Next time don't grab me when you're doing your demon-killing super nova, okay?"

"I am sorry, Dean. I will find away to fix it."

"Not right now. We need to take care of this thing. Pity that bitch escaped though."

"I am sure that we will find her again." The Leviathan stirred; I decapitated it with my sword. I called Gabriel, letting him know what had happened. His voice was tense, but he promised to send someone to take care of it. I asked if anyone had found Jo yet. He did not know, but he said to return to headquarters and that most of the demons were gone.

As Dean and I walked back, he rubbed the scar on his arm. "I will try against to remove it," I promised.

"Actually, I think it looks kinda cool."


	11. 10: In Which We Find Out What Happened

Dean and I made our way back to the old city hall, only running across four more demons, which we dispatched quickly. Dean's shoulder did not seem to be troubling him anymore, but I wanted to have someone look at it – Joshua perhaps. Yet, perversely, I was opposed to anyone else touching it, let alone removing it. These sudden possessive feelings welling within me needed to be examined at a more opportune time.

Finally we made it back to the compound. Most of the angels had come back, though a good portion was guarding the walls against another attack. I got Dean settled in a chair as Michael strode forward to speak, Adam standing awkwardly behind him.

"Well done," Michael started off. "Angels, you were quick to respond and defend. Humans, you were quick to follow instruction and do what you were told."

"He's not the best at pretending to like us, is he?" Dean muttered.

No he was not.

Michael began listing the damages. "1,260 demons breached our walls. Thirteen homes were damaged, either by the fighting or fire that was lit. Eighteen angels were injured. Six humans were injured. Three humans and one angel are missing. No reported deaths. 1,250 demons were killed, five escaped, and one surrendered. When the other four are found and killed, you will be allowed to return to your homes. That is all." Michael stepped down from the platform and stood talking to a group of angels.

I approached him; Dean followed behind me. As soon as I got his attention I spoke, "Sir, Dean and I incapacitated a Leviathan. It has been taken care of, but I thought you should know about it."

"A Leviathan – by yourself? Very good. That is the only one that I have heard of. I will discuss with the archangels if this is an isolated incident or if the demons are working with the Leviathans. Carry on." Lightly, he pushed passed Dean and I, so that he could talk to the others.

Adam smiled apologetically at us. "Hey, how's it going?" asked Dean.

Adam shrugged. "Can't complain."

"No, I guess you can't." Dean looked at me and said, "Let's go find Sam and Bobby and see if anyone has heard anything more about Jo."

We talked to Charlie and Henrickson and a few others, but no one had see Sam, Bobby, Jo, or even Ellen for awhile. Dean scratched his head, "We left Bobby here, right? Where the hell could he have wandered off too?"

"Let me ask Balthazar." He was guarding the wall and helping repair the breach, but he could still hear me despite the distance. Whatever cure the demons had laid on this had faded. Balthazar told us that Bobby was somewhere with Michael, something about a demon, and he'd be right over to collect him in a moment, but he really needed to concentrate right now.

I explained this to Dean, leaving us relieved but more confused. Just when I was about to go ask someone, Rachel came up to us, bringing summons from Michael.

"He is in the back chambers. You can bring your pet, unless you would rather tie him outside."

"There is no need to be nasty, Rachel," I chided her. I was beginning to see that the angels without humans to care for had grown more antagonistic toward them.

She only gave me a blank stare. "They are waiting for you in here. You should hurry."

Ignoring her, I opened the door and stepped inside, making sure I stayed in front of Dean. It was dark, but I could see that there were several figures inside. First Bobby was standing, arms cross and looking more displeased that usual. Raphael and Chuck were there – Raphael standing in the middle of the room and Chuck standing hesitantly off to the side. There were also six armed angels standing around a chain-covered demon sitting on a chair in the center of a devil's trap.

"Who is this?" I asked.

Bobby gruffly said, "This is Crowley. He's a crossroads demon and a pain in my ass."

"How the hell did he get here?" Dean asked. "No wait – he was the one demon that surrendered. Shoulda known."

"Nice to see you too, Dean," said the demon with a smile.

"You know this demon, Dean?"

"Oh sure," said Crowley. "I'm old friends with Bobby and the Hardy Boys. We've made a few deals in the past, but somehow they've always come out on top." He snarled a bit at the last part.

I stepped forward angrily, but Raphael put a hand out to me. Crowley laughed. I asked Raphael, "What is he doing here – still alive?"

Crowley broke in again, "Don't you worry, pretty little angel; the adults are going to sort everything out."

"I say we kill him," said Dean. I nodded.

"'fraid, you can't do that. I'm working out a deal with higher ups."

"No more deals," grumped Bobby.

"Oh Robert, that hurts. And after all I've done for you – giving you your legs back and, more recently, saving your sorry life from a mob of my brethren that broke through your paltry defenses."

"What happened, Bobby?" Dean asked.

Bobby ran a hand down his beard. "I was sitting right where you left me, when this little girl came up to me, crying about her dog. She said she only lived a few houses away. So I went to go grab it and got ambushed." He mumbled the last bit, "And Crowley saved me."

"From a terrifying horde of demons. There were hundreds of them. Don't forget the best part."

"There were only twelve. You probably sent them there so you could play hero in your big rescue. I'm still not sure why you tried to make me run off with you. I doubt I'd be a good hostage."

"So you've seen through my diabolical plan, have you? Well, never mind, I did save your life. And if you will let me get to haggling, I will make another one that will save anymore lives."

"As if we would ever-" Dean shouted, but Raphael lifted a hand to stop him.

Crowley shifted, chains rattling. "Here's the deal – what with all the desolation, the constant fighting, and the resurgence of monsters even scary than I am, it's become a rough place out there for a simple, most peaceful demon. I want protection, relaxation here in this simply lovely paradise you've built for yourselves and I tell you all I know about demon, Leviathan, and all other creepy-crawly plans. And, trust me, I know a lot – I've been hobnobbing with all the top players."

I could feel Dean bristling beside me, so I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. His flinch reminded me of his new scar, so I slide my hand down slightly. Crowley smirked. I was beginning to hate this demon – more than most.

Finally Raphael said, "Your deal with be discussed with the other archangels. Until then, think on your sins." Other than the guards, he led the rest of us outside. He called to Zachariah, "Post more guards – angel and human – in and around this room. Do not allow anyone to speak to him." Zachariah nodded. Raphael turned to me and said, "Castiel, we may use you and Balthazar in dealing with this demon, since he knows your humans. Be ready when I call. Now you may return to the main chambers until it is safe to return to your home."

"Thank you, Raphael." I watched the archangel and the prophet walk away, and then turned to Bobby. "That was unwise."

"Dammit, don't you think I know that. Crowley ain't like other demons. It's almost like he's getting soft, like he's bored with being pure evil all the time. Not that he ain't – he's evil. But I trust him, not much use in being a crossroads demon if you can't keep your deal. You just got to make sure that the deal's good. Probably should get someone other than you pure angels to deal with that."

"I do not know what will be done with him. For now we should return until we can find the others."

"Where the hell is Sam?" asked Dean again. "I might just beat his ass when he comes back."

I frowned, concentrating. "I'm a not certain where he is, but he is with Gabriel and nearby. He is no danger, but does appear to be somewhat excited. Of course, I cannot tell what he is feeling as well as I can with you, Dean."

"Cas, I doubt you have any idea what I'm feeling most of the time." Dean laughed. "Come on; let's go find that big lug."

It took us about fifteen minutes, but I finally got us close enough to pinpoint where Sam was. Gabriel was sending off all sorts of confusing signals. "They're in here," I motioned to a closed door, "but I don't think that we should go in—"

It was too late. Dean shoved the door open and the three of us almost fell in atop one another.

I blinked, not sure what I was seeing at first. Gabriel was lying back on a desk with Sam standing on the floor, leaning over, bodies all pressed up and undulating against each other. Sam was doing something against his neck as Gabriel turned to grin lazily at us.

Comprehension. "Why are you kissing?" I asked.

"_What the hell_, Sammy?" shouted Dean.

"Idjits."

Sam tried to push himself backwards, but Gabriel's stronger though smaller frame pulled him back against him. "Gabe, stop!"

With a rustle, Balthazar appeared in the room. "There you are Bobby. I have been looking all over for you." He turned to look at what we were all staring at. "Well then."

"Let go of Sam," Dean said slowly. "Right now."

"Party pooper," teased Gabriel. He released Sam, but made him sit on the desk next to him. Sam kept his red face toward the floor. "Should we tell them what's going on, sugar?"

"Oh please enlighten us," said Bobby. "I'm sure we're all dying to know."

Gabriel clapped his hands once then began his story excitedly. "Well, I'm am sure you all know about all the unresolved sexual tension Sam and I have been suffering through recently, right?"

"Gross," mumbled Dean.

"Shut it, Deano – you should talk. Anyway, Uriel and Ellen dropped off Sam, right? (They're fine, in case you were worried.) Sam and I were at the breach, fighting off demons left and right. We make a fantastic duo, by the way. In the thick of it all, we saw Jo escape through the hole, heading for the woods. Michael had forbidden all of us to leave, so I was unable to go after her. Sam would have none of that – I had to wrestle him back. While I was struggling with him, a demon stabbed me in the back. Hardly felt it, but Sam slipped free. So there we were, me on the ground and Sam with a clean shot to freedom. He could run or stay." There he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "I could see the conflict on his face – it was beautiful. He chose me. With some truly sexy moves he slaughtered the nearby demons and dragged me to safety, not that I needed it."

Sam spoke up, "He was stabbed with a shard of an angel killing sword. I actually thought he was dead for a few moments."

"Shush, Sam. You're making it sound too tragic. I'm fine, but your concern is sweet. So Sam kept me safe while I dusted myself off, and we resumed the fighting. When it was all over, I let Metatron boss everyone around and get the hole fixed, while I swooped Sam out of there and brought him here. Until you motley lot came in we were discussing our feelings toward one another."

"Feelings? Is that what you kids are calling it now?" asked Bobby.

Gabriel shook his head, "Sometimes I think you forget how ancient we really are. Now if you all don't mind, Sam and I have to get back to our conversation." He snapped his fingers and we were all outside the room with the door locking behind us. I could hear Sam's annoyed protests, but they only seemed half-hearted.

Dean rubbed his face. "I need a drink. Cas, take me to a bar."

"Dean, there are no bars here."

Balthazar rolled his eyes and made three beers appear, one for Dean, one for Bobby, and one for himself. Dean said, "Thanks. We'll be needing a lot more than this. Come on, Cas. Get yourself one, and I'll teach you how to drink to forget."


	12. 11: In Which We Meet an Old Friend

Things changed after that. Sam and Gabriel now spent a lot more time together in Sam's room, but we did not talk about that as per Dean's instructions. I do not believe he was upset with Sam or Gabriel, but I did not understand where his concern came from. He refused to talk about it when I asked.

Perhaps he was worried about Jo. No sign of her had been found, even after Michael allowed Anna to leave the compound to search. Everyone was displeased with her disappearance – whether it showed our weakness or our failure at keeping a human happy and safe. I sensed that Ellen was desperately worried, but her face never showed it. She and Uriel worked tirelessly, pouring over maps to find nearby places for Anna to search.

Crowley's deal was agreed upon. Michael decided that since our humans knew him so well that we could take care of him. Balthazar protested, saying that the humans were already enough trouble, but Michael ignored his protests. Gabriel gave him a place out back by adding on to the garage. Crowley protested the lack of luxury less than the fact that he was unable to leave the building. Bobby was the only one who visited. Balthazar occasionally went with him, either to annoy or protect.

I disliked having a demon nearby, but it was unlikely that he would try to do us harm with an archangel living with us. I would keep a close watch on him, but since Dean did not seem to worry, I would follow him.

* * *

One day, Dean decided to go for a walk and drag me along with him. As we stepped outside he explained, "Sam and Gabriel are just too much, you know? I sit on that couch! I don't even know what Bobby and Crowley and Balthazar are doing in the garage—"

"They're fixing up a 1965 Buick Skylar and eating pepperoni pizza."

"I said I didn't want to know, Cas!" He glared at me for a moment, then laughed. "Sorry, buddy, I guess that's not as bad as I thought."

I would not ask what he thought they were doing, because I did not want to know. Sometimes humans could be very… perverse.

Instead I asked Dean, "Where shall we go?"

He shrugged. That was perfectly acceptable; I was always happy to go anywhere with Dean. "Stop grinning at me like that," teased Dean.

I did not blush. I simply shrugged, mimicking him earlier.

We walked for several miles, alternating between friendly teasing and companionable silence. We were walking out of a cul-de-sac that we had mistakenly wandered down, having not noticed the dead end sign, when we heard a voice calling after us – "Dean!"

We both turned to see a pretty, blonde girl running after us. She came to a stop in front of us; I did not recognize her, and neither did Dean judging by the confused look on his face. "Oh my gosh, Dean, I can't believe it's you. I hardly recognized you! But when I saw you walking down the street, I was like, that's Sam's brother! We never met, but I definitely recognized you from his picture! Is Sam here? Is he ok?"

Finally, she paused, giving Dean the chance to ask, "Who are you?"

The girl laughed, throwing her arms around Dean in a tight hug. "Oh sweetie, sorry, it's me Jessica!"

Dean's whole body jerked. I started forward, but the Jessica girl released him. Both were smiling now, though Dean's seemed a bit strained. A dark haired female came of out a house down the street and hurried over to us. She wasn't an angel, but a reaper.

"Are you all right, Jessica?" asked the reaper. "Who are your friends?"

Jessica laughed, "Tessa, this is Sam's brother Dean. You remember Sam, right? Well, I guess you don't, but he was my boyfriend before I was in the coma. Dean, this is Tessa; she's my guardian. And I'm sorry, I don't know you…"

She smiled at me, expectantly. I stared back.

Dean jumped in, smacking my lightly on the shoulder. "This silent fellow is Castiel, my, er, guardian."

"So nice to meet you, Castiel." Jessica shook my hand warmly. Tessa shook Dean's hand and then mine. "Why don't you all come inside for something to drink? It's so warm out?"

Somewhat overwhelmed, Dean and I followed the enthusiastic girl inside her and Tessa's house where we were served pink lemonade. "I can't believe you're here, Dean!" exclaimed Jessica.

"I can't believe you're here," said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you were… you know… dead."

"I was! Well, not really. That horrible fire almost got me (I was declared dead for 3 minutes and 42 seconds), but I just ended up in a coma for, like, ever. Until a few months ago when this whole end of the world thing happened and Tessa woke me up and brought me here."

Tessa interjected, "She was deemed to be righteous for her suffering."

"I was in a coma. I was sleeping with nice dreams. I hardly call it suffering! But, honestly, thanks all the same, Tessie!" Jessica gave Tessa a quick side hug. Jessica looked at Dean, "Is Sam here too?"

Dean cleared his throat and finally nodded. I did not understand his hesitation – surely Sam would be happy to see this woman alive. Then I thought of the years that had passed and of Gabriel, and I thought I understood. However, I would keep silent, and let Dean handle this concern.

"Yes, Jessica, Sam is here too. He's doing well, considering everything that's happened to us."

I knew Dean meant since the End of Days, but Jessica said, "Oh yes, tell me everything that happened while I was gone – he was always so worried about you and your father. Tell me what you've been doing since then!"

Tessa spoke up, "She knows only a little about what has been going on in the world outside, but you may tell her about being hunters."

Dean nodded. I knew he would try to keep things easy and avoid the truly frightening parts of the Winchester story. He went on for about an hour, telling stories and making Jessica laugh at his and Sam's antics.

When he'd finished the seventh tale, Tessa stood up and excused herself to make more lemonade. "That's all right, Tessa," Dean spoke up. "Cas and I should probably head home; the others will start to worry."

Jessica clasped her hands together, "Oh, can we come! I want to see Sam."

"Of course you do," said Dean. "But I think it'd be too much of shock for Sam – he was real broken up for a long while after he lost you. I think I should give him some warning first."

"That sounds wise," said Jessica. "Let me write down our phone number for you, and you can call us as soon as he's ready."

* * *

Later that night as we sat down to dinner, ignoring Bobby complaining about how the pair of us were doing all the cleaning up since we'd bailed on the cooking, I tapped Dean on the arm, asking Dean what he was planning. Subtly, he shook his head not yet. I arranged my napkin over my lap, ignoring Balthazar's curious look at our exchange.

We had been eating awkwardly for a few minutes before Dean shouted, "What the hell is Crowley doing eating with us!?"

"Pleasure to see you too, love."

"It was Gabriel's idea," explained Sam.

"No, no, this's all Bobby. He just remembered how things work around here and asked me first. Of course, I said the demon-scum was welcome to eat with us. All the better to keep an eye on him."

The rest of the dinner plummeted into cheery arguments and playful teasing.

After dinner as Dean and I were doing the mountain of dishes, he told me that he would tell Sam about Jessica later that night and asked me not to mention it to anyone. I agreed, of course. He also asked me to distract Gabriel and Balthazar, and Bobby too, but he didn't have an angel's hearing. So I shooed them all outside, saying something about it was past time for cleaning out the garage. I barked orders, trying to keep them busy enough so that they would not notice Dean and Sam's absence for as long as possible.

However, my ploy was up when we all heard Sam's shout from upstairs. Gabriel was there in an instant, while the rest of us took the more natural route of walking.

When we arrived, I made only a small effort to keep the others out before we all piled into Sam's bedroom. I looked everyone over, trying to figure out what damage had been done. Neither Sam, Dean, nor Gabriel seemed irreparably upset. Dean was re-explaining everything to Gabriel and the four of us caught the end of it.

"Who's Jessica?" Balthazar whispered in my ear.

"Sam's old girlfriend who was in a coma but woke up and was sent here, and Dean and I met her today," I said as quiet as I could back."

"How old is 'old?'" asked Balthazar.

"I remember Jessica," mutter Bobby. "Never met her, but Sam met her at college, right? John was not happy about that whole thing, but he couldn't say much after the girl died, but I guess she didn't."

"Awkward," muttered Crowley in my other ear.

I turned to glare at him – what was he doing in the house, when Dean's own glare caught my attention.

"Great," he snapped. "Everybody all caught up on Sam's love life?"

"Jessica must have been before you met me, like years and years ago," responded Crowley, who jerked as Bobby elbowed him.

"I don't know what to do, Dean," said Sam. "I should go see her."

"Of course, we can go now," said Gabriel, his voice expressionless, his face tight and still.

"There's no need to go right now," said Dean quickly. "I'll give her a call tomorrow and we can all meet."

"I'm sure Sam would appreciate some alone time."

"Don't be stupid," Sam scolded. "It has been years and years. I'm over her."

"Are you sure?" said Gabriel, leaning close.

"Of course," Sam mumbled, their eyes locked.

Dean, Balthazar, Bobby, and Crowley all groaned. I thought it was touching. I'm not sure who did it, but before my next breath we were all back out in the garage.

"Well then, that's something," said Balthazar.

"Yup," said Bobby.

"Yep," said Crowley.

"Yes," I said.

A muffled banging came from the trunk of the Buick. I hurried to open it and found Dean glaring within. "That angel is _something_, all right!"

* * *

The next day after calling, Sam and Gabriel went to Jessica and Tessa's house. Dean and I (nor the others) were not allowed along. They were gone for several hours, but when they returned all was well. Sam explained that Jessica did not hold him to any promises made in the past. Despite the fact, that the feelings and memories should have been just as fresh as the day she fell asleep, Jessica said that that past seemed like a distant memory. Her heart had not been broken like Sam's had. I wondered if Tessa was someway responsible for that.

Sam and Jessica assured each other that they would see each other often, friends again, but the romance had faded. Time was responsible for that.

Gabriel and Sam appeared to me to be happy together once again, much to everyone else's dismay. I admit, seeing the two of them wrapped around each other all over the house and yard and garage all the time did grow a bit disconcerting after a time.

Though, that may have just been Dean's influence on me.

For the most part, things in our home settled, in the face of everything else going on in our community.


	13. 12: In Which There is Punishment

"Dean, they found Jo!" shouted Sam as he raced into the house, slamming the front door behind him.

"Where is she? Is she okay?" Dean asked, quickly putting his shoes on.

"I don't know how she is, just that she's alive. I saw Charlie outside, and she said Anna or Michael or one of the angels found her outside the compound and that she'd being held in the city hall."

Dean rose. "Let's go."

I grabbed his shoulder, squeezing tight enough that he shuddered, "Hold on, both of you. It is unlikely that you will be allowed to see her now."

Dean grabbed my hand on is shoulder and leaned in, saying, "Jo's family. We help her – end of story."

I nodded, and we left for city hall.

* * *

Inside the old, brick building we found Ellen and Uriel outside, trying to get inside. "They won't let us in," said Ellen, the frantic look in her eyes belying her calm tone. "Uriel is trying to find someone to listen. I need to see if Jo's all right."

I patted her arm twice. "We don't know what has happened to Jo. They need to find that out first before anyone can see her. Also, they need to find out if she knows anything. But fear not, they will make sure she is safe and well."

"But questions will come first, right?" asked Dean in my ear, as to not upset Ellen.

"They would not let her suffer."

"You wouldn't," he mumbled, "I dunno about the rest of them."

Finally, Uriel got us inside, and we headed into the main hall. There was Jo sitting on a chair, looking haggard, but uninjured. Ellen ran up and began simultaneously hugging and scolding her daughter. Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel were standing nearby. Though we couldn't hear what they were saying, Gabriel was gesturing animatedly, while Michael and Raphael were standing more placidly. The expressions on all of their faces were stern and angry.

Anna arrived next, but instead of going to her charge, she stood by the Voice of the Lord, Metatron and his human companion, Rufus, a hunter friend of Bobby's who visited often and drank beer. I wondered what Metatron was doing here. He usually only came when…

When there was there was punishment to be given.

I yanked Balthazar aside. "What is Metatron doing here?"

"What do you think, Castiel?" Though the words were harsh, his voice was concerned.

"This cannot happen," I said firmly.

"Who are we to decide?" Balthazar asked, but backtracked quickly. "All right, all right, Castiel. You needn't glare like that – it almost hurts. Wouldn't want the humans to be sad, would we? Look, I don't know why that fool girl ran off, but I don't know what Michael and Raphael are going to do to her. Gabriel's obviously on our—on the humans' side." He mumbled something about "going native," but I ignored him.

Dean, Sam, and Bobby pushed their way into our conversation. "I don't like that look on your face, Cas," Dean hissed, keeping his voice low so the others in the room wouldn't hear. Of course, it didn't matter in the case of the archangels, but it was kind for Ellen and Jo.

Balthazar explained, "That stiff looking fellow over there by Bobby's drinking buddy – that's Metatron. He's the enforcer, shall we say? He doles out all those nasty punishment for bad little angels. Now it looks like he'll be doing his work on your dear girl, Jo."

"Figured it was something like that," muttered Bobby.

"What are we going to do?" asked Sam.

"There's not much we can do," explained Balthazar. "Whatever the big bosses decide goes. Looks like it's two to one right now, favor them."

"What about Anna?" Sam wondered. "Does she have any say."

"Not much," I said.

"Not like it seems like that bitch give a rip right now," Dean said snidely.

"She is very angry at Jo," I said, "but Jo is still her charge to protect no matter what she does. Perhaps I should speak with Anna."

Balthazar nodded. "I'll keep an eye on everything else." As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear, "If things look like they're not going to go well for the girl, get Dean and Sam, if you can, and get them out of here. Michael will not like it if they cause any of their usual trouble."

Anna refused to make eye contact with me, but I was not deterred. "Jo is your charge, given to you for protection from God, Himself. You lost her before, do not fail her now." Anna only shrugged. "I does not matter what the archangels decided, you need to speak for her and stand beside her not matter what happens."

"I do not have to do anything," she hissed, finally looking at me. "You have no idea – she has been nothing but a thorn in my side since they day Rachel handed her chains to me."

"Yes, Anna, 'to you.' She is yours, and you were supposed to keep her safe. I know you did everything you could to find her before. Perhaps, you were never meant to be friends, but you still have a job to do. If you fail now, you will never forgive yourself."

After a moment, Anna asked, her eyes sad, "What about you, Castiel? Would you forgive me? You have always been the gentlest of us all."

"Anna, you have done nothing against me. But forsake her now, and you will never be able to change that."

It took her several more minutes of silence and thinking, before Anna squared her shoulders and walked over to Jo, Ellen, and Uriel. Giving the blonde girl an unreadable look, she stood behind the girl, putting a protective hand on her shoulder.

* * *

Michael was finishing giving his sentence, "Due to her disobedience and choice to put others in danger, Jo will first be given thirty lashes." Ellen's angry gasped made him pause. "As her guardian, Anna may take half of the punishment on herself if she chooses."

Anna stepped forward, "I will take half. I would like to formally request another ten on her behalf."

Gabriel interjected, "Granted."

Michael frowned, but did not argue. "Second, since we cannot banish her, Jo will remain in confinement in a cell in the police station jail. Anna will be the only one allowed to visit."

Ellen shouted something, but I could not hear it over the ruckus the boys were putting up. I looked at the archangels, keeping a firm hand on Dean's shoulder. Gabriel's face was pained, Raphael was furious, but Michael had the slightest smile on his face. How he loved to punish others. Jo would not be the only one punished today, if they kept this up.

I turned to Balthazar. "Get the three of them out of here, now." Balthazar nodded. I turned to Uriel and Ellen, but they were already gone, only the echo of her curse remained. I hoped they would forgive us later.

I stepped forward, more furious than I could ever remember being. I did not wait for permission. "Michael, do you truly think this punishment is just? The girl was scared and angry and ran away. She neither hurt nor betrayed anyone. There is absolutely no reason her punishment needs to go on after today. Certainly she suffered enough out there."

Gabriel said, "I agree with Castiel. There must be some compromise. Obviously, we must ensure that she can never escape again, but locking her up forever cannot be the only answer. Perhaps, that human, Ash, may have some technological method of keeping her under control."

Presented with this logic, Michael had to acquiesce. Raphael nodded, now looking bored that the excitement was over.

Feeling that I should not press my point, I went on to my second. "And the lashes."

"What of them?" snapped Michael.

"They are cruel."

"They, are a bit medieval, aren't they, Mike?" Gabriel was obviously feeling more relieved now that his obnoxious sense of humor was back.

Michael's annoyed face was fearsome. "Our Lord God Himself suffered the lash. Surely this girl can as well, especially since Anna has taken over half of them."

I frowned, "I do not believe that was supposed to be an example to follow. Did He not suffer for their sins, so they would be spared?"

Michael blinked. Then he said roughly, "I did not come here to argue theology with upstart angels. This child needs to be punished, and she shall be. If not the lash, what?"

"Make her write lines," suggested Gabriel drolly.

"What are lines?" snapped Michael.

"You make her write something like, 'It is very bad to run away from Anna and I'll never do it again and Gabriel is awesome,' life fifty times. It's so boring, she'll learn her lesson."

"That might work," said Michael thoughtfully. "She should write, 'It is very wicked to be disobedient and run away. Instead I should be grateful for my many blessings.'"

"…'and Gabriel is awesome.'"

"…'and Gabriel—' no, she is not to write that last bit. And she is to write it _one thousand times_." Michael finished, looking very pleased with himself.

I sneaked a look at Jo and Anna. Jo seemed very bewildered, while Anna looked resigned.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled, dear brothers," Gabriel said, throwing his arms around Michael and Raphael. As he led them out of the room, I heard his voice in my head, "I've told Balthazar and Uriel everything's fine, but you'd better head back home, before your annoyingly-virtuous face spills the beans and makes them change their minds." I glared at him, but he only said, "Get lost, Cassy!"

With annoyed grunt, I left the building, and headed home. Things were quiet, and I took a moment to relax in the peaceful yard, before heading inside.

Unusually, it was quiet and peaceful in there as well. I called out for Dean and the others, but got no response. I wasn't worried; Balthazar could have taken them over to Ellen's, but I thought I had better have a quick look around before, I went over there. They could always be in the garage.

I checked the garage first, but there was no sign of them. Back in the kitchen, I heard a noise upstairs in Bobby's room. It sounded like a groan. In an instant I was there, kneeling at Balthazar's prone side. He was bleeding from several wounds in his body, the largest a cut on his scalp. Placing my hand over the wound, I poured some of my grace into him as I flipped him gently over.

His eyes opened once before fluttering closed. He body stiffed as his vessel knit itself together.

"What happened?" I whispered.

"Demons – waiting up here. I killed two, but they took the humans." As he said, there were two bodies lying on the other side of the room.

"Where did they take them?" I asked, readying myself for flight.

"No, Castiel, not alone. Get the others. They'll have taken more humans. You'll never take them all on your own. Eve and Lilith are leading them."


	14. 13: In Which There is Pain and Pleasure

"Do you know where they are?" I shouted, shoving my forearm into Crowley's chest.

"No, you lovesick, idiot. If you think I would not only jeopardize my stay here and not leave after the crime, you're more of a bloody idiot than I thought," Crowley snapped.

He was right. I didn't know if Crowley was strangely loyal or, more likely, strongly self-preserving, but he would not go after the boys and especially not Bobby. After I had found Balthazar, Gabriel had sensed that something was wrong and joined us. After realizing demons had breached our defenses without notice and had taken humans, he realized the attack was being orchestrated by someone higher up than a couple of demons. He had left us with Crowley – so we could all find out what we could before deciding on our next move.

As I stepped back, Balthazar stepped forward. "You say you're not part of it," he snarled, "but you must know something. Talk. Now."

"Sure, boys. I've known something's been in the works for a while now. Which is precisely why I came here. For some damn reason, I thought the good guys would be strong enough to hold back all those really scary monsters and keep me safe. Which, technically you have, but the Winchesters and Co. really can't say the same, hmm?"

"You're talking too much, but saying nothing. Tell us what you know now."

"I have to say, Cassy, I am proud of your proper contraction use. So much less robotronic. Anyway, the two bitches that took your boys are Meg and Ruby, lower-level demons, so they obviously had help. If they told Balthazar the truth that Lilith and Eve sent them, then we do have a good reason to be quaking in our boots. I'm sure you're familiar with them. I imagine this whole thing has been set up by the Big Bad, Lucifer, himself. Now if we include the Leviathans, that means we have way too many monsters and demons and things that go bump in the night working together than I'm comfortable with."

I gave Balthazar a look. This is exactly what we had been fearing. "Why did they take the humans, but not all of them, and hurt none of the angels?"

"It was a smash and grab. Somehow, they got in quick, probably near any unprotected or isolated humans, grabbed them, and got out. That tells me, they don't care who they got. To me that makes sense, other than Chuck or Kevin or any of the other prophets, they don't see the humans as any more valuable than the others. I don't think they want anything specific from one of them."

As he finished, Gabriel, Michael, and Adam appeared in the house. "Then what do they want from them?" asked Gabriel stiffly.

"They want to torture you. They've stolen your beloved pets. Any information about defenses would only be a bonus. They already know the layout of this place pretty well already, so I'd imagine they're more interested in hurting them, by hurting you."

"Then we must get them back immediately, while keeping the rest of them safe," said Michael, his hand wrapped firmly around Adam's wrist, pulling him closer.

"Who else was taken?" I asked.

Michael listed them off, "Nancy, Joshua's ward; Charlie, Hester's; Becky, Samandriel's, who they left badly beaten; Kevin Tran the Prophet; and your Dean, Sam, and Bobby. They took seven total."

I closed my eyes, their faces running across my mind: sweet Nancy, playful Charlie, exuberant Becky, serious Kevin, gruff and caring Bobby, clever and brave Sam, and my own Dean. A painfully possessive feeling ran through my body at the thought of Dean. He was mine, and if it took my last breath, I would kill any who dared hurt him.

The feeling was so powerful that I swayed on my feet. Balthazar steadied me. "We'll kill them all," promised Balthazar.

I turned to Crowley, "Where do we find them?"

"Last I saw them, Meg and Ruby have a place – a warehouse – where they hide out. They keep a few other demons around. However, I'd guess that with this big an operation, they'll either have moved or there'll be a lot more than you can handle."

"Demon," Michael spit the word contemptuously from his mouth, "who do you think you are talking to?"

"A big ass archangel," Crowley shrugged, "but even your majesty won't be able to get past angel wards and holy oil traps. So kindly shove it." Crowley straightened his tie before continuing. "Now let's cut right past the haggling stage, since we all know what you're going to ask me next. I will go in and do what I can to rescue your little puppies and will expect a handsome reward if I return. If they're even there. Give me a map, and I'll show you where to drop me off."

"Thank you," I said as I handed him a road atlas.

"Least I could do. You just better keep up your end of the deal."

I wasn't precisely sure what I had agreed to, but nodded anyway.

"This is the spot." He pointed to the outskirts of a small town over four hundred miles away. "If Meg and Ruby are there, and that's a big if, they obviously won't have gotten there through regular transportation. They have big help. Don't know why I'm doing this. Who's going to be nearby to back me up when this all goes south?"

"I will be going," said Michael. We looked at him in some shock. "As will Gabriel. Raphael will be in charge while we are going. If this threat is a big as the demon claims, we will our most powerful warriors. Samandriel is still too weak and Joshua is no fighter, but Castiel, Balthazar, Inias, and Hester will come for their charges. Zachariah, Virgil, Rachel, and Naomi will join us. The rest of the angels will stay here, ready to come or defend if needed."

I was glad Michael seemed determined to rescue our people, but I wished we were there already. My chest felt tight and my head ached.

* * *

It was agony waiting for Crowley.

Two hours ago he had gotten into the warehouse easily, but there was no one there. However, he brought some tools outside and explained that he recognized them. "They belong to a real nasty piece of work, a demon named Alistair. If he's out of hell, then he's most likely with Azazel and his group. I'll show you to his hideout."

That had been exactly two hours and three minutes ago. Crowley had been in the hideout for thirty-three of those minutes. The hideout was a decrepit old mansion, high and lofty and falling apart. The place stunk of demons, and the walls were covered in wards and sigils. The whole place felt musty and evil.

All of the angels were waiting on two hills overlooking the manor. I wanted desperately to be closer, but if they sensed my presence the humans would be dead in an instant. So I waited in agony.

Six minutes and twelve seconds later, a loud siren came from the mansion below. I tried to stand to see what was going on, but Balthazar pulled me back down. "Fire alarm," he whispered.

"Is that your demon calling for help?" snapped Rachel.

"He knew we would be unable to help," I stated.

Balthazar nodded. "It may be a distraction."

Just then five demons burst out of the front door. Crowley burst out a side door, one arm supporting Bobby and the other holding up a female. He tried to drag them a few steps forward, before Balthazar was there, gone from my side before I noticing him moving. I watched intently as he pulled the trio into his arms.

The next instant they were on the hill beside me. "I don't think they saw me," he huffed, laying Bobby down. "They'll be wondering how Crowley got away so fast." I took the girl from Crowley and laid her down. It was Becky. Though unconscious, she appeared uninjured.

Bobby tried to sit up, and Balthazar pulled him against his chest, ignoring Crowley's smirk. "You've got to get them out," he groaned. "They've started torturing the others."

"What happened?" I asked.

"You mean after this idiot got knocked on the head? Those two female demons took us here – well, I guess they didn't take us. It was more like getting angel zapped. Something powerful got us here quick. They had the seven of us chained up in a ballroom or some shit. A real creepy feller with yellow yes and one of the girl demons started on Sam right away. They weren't hurting him, I don't think, other than making him drink some of her blood. It was sick." He shuddered.

Bobby took a deep breath, "Another sicko started on Dean. He was a bit away from us – I could hear him shouting. A monster in a little girl's body was cutting on Nancy. They weren't doing anything to Charlie or Kevin yet, but they pulled Becky here and me into another room. The other girl demon started asking us questions, but she didn't hurt us. That's when Crowley talked his way in. The rest happened so fast – I think I got hit on the head. Crowley got us out."

As I listened to his words, the only thing I could feel was my fingernails digging into my palms. My hands stung, but I focused on the task at hand.

Below us there was commotion. In the windows, shadowy figures ran around, obviously searching for the missing prisoners, but not wanting to go outside. A scream suddenly echoed through the air, louder than any human voice. It was a woman's scream, amplified in some way, to fill the air with her desperate pain.

Bobby shuddered and a sob escaped his throat. "You need to get them now."

Michael commanded, "Inias, take them back to the camp."

"What of Kevin?" he asked as he took Bobby and Becky's hands.

"We will bring him back to you." Inias bowed his head and was gone.

Michael to me, "The demon needs to remove enough angel-warding sigils so we can get to the main room he spoke of."

"What do you think I was doing in there the whole time?" Crowley asked with a smirk. "Your path should be plenty clear. Go in through the door I came from, through the kitchen, and then the ballroom is straight through the hall ahead."

A single word from Michael reverberated through all of our heads: "Now!"

* * *

I burst through the outer kitchen door, swinging my sword through a demon on my left. I did not slow for the other monsters there, but used my momentum to propel me into the hall. The angels behind me would take care of those. My only thought was on Dean and the others.

Michael, Gabriel, and a few others had gone to the front law minutes before I ran through the door to draw the demons to that side of the house. A few especially foolish creatures even dared to attack by venturing outside, but their end was swift.

Too swift perhaps, since none of the others risked it remained in the house. It did not matter; they would be slain later if not sooner.

The hallway was empty save one demon that fell under my sword. Crowley did not steer us wrong, and within moments I was running into the large room that had, perhaps, once been a ballroom. Now it was a dungeon of torture.

I did not hesitate; my sword swung in a swift arc as I dashed across the room, killing anything it touched. Despite my rapidness, I noticed several things: Charlie kicking a demon towards me as she tried to pick her handcuffs, Kevin rolled into a ball to protect himself, and Nancy unconscious as a child with a wicked grin sat on her blood-splattered lap. I didn't see Sam or Dean.

I moved out of the room, leaving the fighting behind. I called for Gabriel to come through the house. He could deal with Lilith. I entered a foyer off the ballroom.

On the other side was Dean; a demon with white eyes was behind him, holding a jagged-edged knife to his throat. I paused, doors slamming behind me. A drop of blood fell to the floor. I strode toward Dean, lifted my sword, and threw it with all my might through the white-eyed demon's throat.

The demon slumped to the side, knife clattering the floor. Dean collapsed into my arms. "I have you," I murmured. I rested my forehead against his, willing my grace into his body.

I only stopped when he coughed. "Cas? I'm okay now, boss man."

Looking around us, I only let him go when I saw we were safe. The other three humans were gone, taken somewhere safe. Angels were working swiftly, moving bodies and riding the building of its evil wards.

Gabriel was next to Sam, who was leaning over throwing up. Rubbing his back and reaching to hold back his hair, Gabriel said, "Get it all out, big guy. Don't want to taste any demon blood on you when you give me my thank-you-for-rescuing-me-you're-my-hero kiss."

"Super gross, Gabriel," laughed Dean.

Gabriel only smirked. "Where's Cassy's kiss, Deano?"

I froze. Dean flushed. Rachel, who was passing by, gave a disgusted snort.

I tried to catch Dean's eye, but he refused to look at me. Was a kiss a necessary part of a rescue? Surely Gabriel was only teasing. I took Dean by the arm and helped him up. We walked outside.

Dark clouds were gathering overhead. "Rain will wash all this away." I turned to Dean, "Your memories – I can wash them; I can make you forget."

Dean looked up at the sky. A raindrop fell on his cheek. I watched it roll down the side of his face. "No thanks," he finally said. "I've survived worse. I'll get through this. I have my family with me after all."

I smiled.

"Besides," he continued. "I hate to forget the sight of you flinging your sword across the room and that bastard right in the neck. That was pretty bad ass, Cas."

* * *

A week later it was almost as if nothing had happened.

The demons and monsters in the mansion were nothing compared to two archangels and another half-dozen angels. We burned the place down, with their corpses turned to dust inside. Only one escaped – the demon Meg. The humans said she was the only one who hadn't hurt them, just asked questions. So we didn't bother hunting her down. Michael decided it must have been Lucifer who had transported the demons in and out of our camp, so new borders were put up to keep even him out. The battle was far from other, but our humans would be safe here.

Gabriel and Sam were in the kitchen, making lemonade. Balthazar, Crowley, and Bobby were in the garage. I could hear them arguing about something from inside. Dean was sitting on the front porch.

I wanted to go to him.

I needed him.

I couldn't.

I couldn't go to him because I couldn't have him, because he couldn't return these feelings that made no sense, and I didn't understand.

So I wanted and did nothing other than consider my thoughts.

I loved him truly and deeply. This went beyond a protective instinct or a friendly fondness. I love him, not because he was a precious creature, but because he was Dean, full of faults and full of virtues each of them more precious than my next breath. I ached to be away from him.

Guilt kept me away. Though I knew he liked me, he could never feel the way I felt about him. It was wrong of me to love him so, when he would never return my affections.

I was startled out of my morose contemplations by Sam calling to me, "Cas, Gabe and I are going to check up on Nancy and the others. Keep an eye out on the three in the garage, will ya?"

"Of course," I called back.

Gabriel yelled something, but it was muffled by Sam.

I decided that I would go out front and just sit with Dean. I would teach myself to simply be content in his company. He was my friend; I would hurt him by avoiding him.

Dean smiled at me when I walked out. I meant to sit on a step, but he patted the porch swing next to him. So I sat, never more aware and self-conscious as I was then.

We talked of random things. I hoped that I was responding appropriately, as I was hardly aware of what I was saying. Of course, awkward conversation would not be out of the ordinary for me.

"Cas, if I tell you something, will you, you know, not hate me forever? I feel like such a girl," Dean said abruptly.

"I would never hate you, Dean. You may tell me anything." I hoped this was not related to his torture – what was he suffering? Perhaps he wanted me to remove his memories.

"Cas, stop it; I can see your brain going a mile a minute. Just let me tell you before you start jumping to conclusions." I nodded, focusing on him. Dean rubbed the back of his neck; it was distracting. "I don't know how to do this, so I'll just say it. Cas, I love you."

I blinked.

"I know you love me too, Cas – like you're always protecting me and thinking of me first. I just feel more for you than that. I wasn't sure if that even worked for angels until Gabe and Sam (which is still gross) and whatever Bobby has going on with Balthazar and Crowley (which is even grosser). I have got no idea if you feel for me at all, but when you're close or you touch me, like you do way too often, I get all these feelings, right? The way you stare at me all the time or when you touch that scar you gave me, I get, I dunno, tingly. I've never felt like this about anyone before, but I'm really super crazy about you, and I hope this isn't confusing you too badly." He stopped and stared at me.

I stared back.

"Say something, Cas. What are you thinking right now?"

Blurting out the first thing that came into my mind, I said, "Is this bad staring."

Dean smiled, "No, Cas, this is really, really good, really hot staring."

"Ah. You are saying that what we have is not only a profound emotional bond, but a physical one as well?"

"Yes."

"Good. I would agree."

"You agree?"

"You make me tingly too."

"No, no, Cas. You cannot ever say that again. That's just weird." He was blushing. "But thanks."

I didn't know what to do. Slowly, I reached up and touched his shoulder. I watched his face carefully and saw a tremor cross his features. He smiled slowly at me. "What should I do?"

"Kiss me."

My mind was blank.

Dean laughed, "How 'bout I start?"

"That would be accept—" the rest of my answer was lost as his lips pressed against mine.

And I was lost to him.

Forever.


	15. Epilogue: In Which a New Earth Begins

_II Chuck 8:12-31_

12After the kidnapping of the seven humans and subsequent rescue, there were no major altercations with the Enemy. 13The tide of battle was turned in favor of the Angels across the globe, and the Enemy was too busy fighting to be concerned with the New Earth Compound. 14One and half years later, the last of the demons were removed from the earth and the Gate to Hell was closed by the Archangel Michael.

15_Thus began the New Earth, a paradise free from the Enemy and all Evil._ 16The following is a list of the citizens of the New Earth Compound.  
17The Archangel Michael and Vessel Adam Milligan.  
Michael acted as high commander among the Angels. Under Michael's tutelage, Adam was elected First Judge and wisely arbitrated disputes among both Angels and Humans.  
18 The Archangel Gabriel and Hunter Sam Winchester.  
Gabriel actual occupation is unknown, but he and Sam were married shortly after the kidnapping. Sam recovered fully from the demon blood he was forced to imbibe. The two live in a house across from Sam's brother Dean Winchester.  
19 The Archangel Raphael and the Prophet Chuck Shurley.  
Raphael faithfully protected Chuck and assisted him in editing his works. Chuck was married to Becky Rosen after the Gate to Hell was closed. They were happily married, and Becky was absolutely the best wife ever.  
20 The Ophan Joshua and Nancy.  
Joshua was in charge of restoring plant life across the damaged regions of New Earth. Nancy assisted him and later married and had three children. The first of which was the first child in New Earth.  
21 The Ophan Metatron and Hunter Rufus Turner.  
Metatron acted as the Voice of the Lord, carrying messages across the land. Rufus mostly stayed in the compound and remained good friends with Bobby Singer.  
22 The Seraph Zachariah and FBI Agent Victor Henrickson.  
The pair acted as a police force, but after the New Earth began their duties were strongly diminished.  
23 The Seraph Uriel and Hunter Ellen Harvelle.  
Uriel and Ellen trained the humans and young angels while in the compound. She remained close to her daughter, Jo.  
24 The Seraph Castiel and Hunter Dean Winchester.  
Castiel was promoted after the kidnapping of the seven for going above and beyond the call of duty. He and Dean were instrumental in closing the Gate to Hell. They married once New Earth was established, and worked on old cars, their favorite being the Impala.  
25 The Angel Balthazar, Hunter Bobby Singer, and Demon Crowley.  
Balthazar refused his promotion for his valor and chose to remain and angel. He was granted guardianship of the Demon Crowley, who was essential in the last days of fighting. The three lived near the Winchesters.  
26 The Angel Virgil, Hunter Ash, and Hunter Garth Fitzgerald IV.  
Virgil, Ash, and Garth were in charge of communications. They occasionally caused trouble.  
27 The Angel Anna and Joanna Beth Harvelle.  
Though she was not judged a traitor, Jo was not allowed to leave the compound until the Gate to Hell was shut. She and Anna work with her mother.  
28 The Angel Hester and Charlie Bradbury.  
Hester and Charlie work with Virgil. After dating on and off for five years, Charlie married the Angel Anna.  
29 The Guardian Angel Inias and Prophet Kevin Tran.  
Inias faithfully protected Kevin as he translated tablets used to close the Gate to Hell.  
30 The Guardian Angel Samandriel and Becky Rosen.  
Samandriel was promoted to full Guardian Angel. Becky married the Prophet Chuck and was an absolutely wonderful, fantastic, stupendous person. She collected and wrote stories about the citizens of New Earth.  
31 The Reaper Tessa and Jessica Moore.  
When not reaping, Tessa helped Jessica preserve historical artifacts from the Old Earth Time.

"You need to focus on the facts, Chuck. Leave out the relationships," Raphael grumbled handing back Chuck's rough draft. "You should leave out that part about Becky; it sounds unprofessional.

Chuck shrugged. "You tell her then. I'm not going to." He scratched his head. "It's weird writing about things in past tense – we're all still alive.

"It's the proper way."

"It's still weird."

"After you finish this chapter, leave it on my desk, and I will edit it for you. I will be removing those parts about Becky."

"I heard that and no you will not!" came a high-pitched voice from the other room.

Raphael stiffened, but Chuck just shrugged. "You're on your own. You'd better fix it before we head over to Castiel and Dean's for the barbeque. I don't want her complain about 'how rude you are' the whole afternoon."

"Very well. I will apologize now." He whispered. "But you need to take it out."

Chuck grinned. "We'll see. Ask her if Samandriel finished icing the cupcakes. Gabriel will be ticked if we forget them."

"Certainly."

A half hour later, as the four of them walked down the sidewalk to Dean and Castiel's house, he breathed in the fresh air, fragrant with Joshua's flowers and absolutely clear and pure. He smiled. It was a good day to be alive.


End file.
